The Irony of it All
by Diamond of Long Cleeve747
Summary: In this fanfic, Eleanor Quame has found a way to Middle Earth- the problem: In all her dreams, nothing could go more wrong in her fantasies of visiting the Fellowship...
1. Accused: In General

Disclaimer: Despite my many attempts to steal Merry and Pippin from Tolkien, I have surrendered to defeat, and therefore must love the hobbits from afar.  
  
Chapter One  
  
It was an ordinary day. For me, at least. I'm not sure if you would consider flying in your private plane normal, but I'd been doing it nearly every weekday evening for three years now.   
  
My job is a secretary for my father, who's a lawyer. I saved all my earning for years to get "The Blackbird" which is the name of my plane. Aviation is my passion, see. I've always loved flying and- I'll get back to my story.   
  
Anyway, it was a normal day, and I'd been airborn for about twenty minutes. The clouds were all white and fluffy-like, usually the kind you find shapes in. I was dipping in and out of them, deciding what I should think about.   
  
I settled on Middle Earth, the location of my favorite fantasy. I was thinking of Lothlorien when I found a cloud ring forming on the side of a particularly large cloud. Those are usually rare, but I always enjoy flying through them. It wasn't very big, indeed, it seemed to be shrinking rapidly. I accelerated the plane, and, still thinking about Lord of the Rings, flew through it.   
  
When I reached the other side a moment later, I knew something was wrong. For one, the ground below me no longer held streets and suburbs. Instead, there were forests and streams. For another thing, my plane instantly disappeared, which isn't really a desirable thing if your pushing two thousand feet above ground.   
  
I did what any being would do. I sank like a rock. The world came closer. My end was near, I knew it. Quickly praying for God to take my soul, I closed my eyes and waited to become a human pancake.   
  
However, that didn't happen. It seemed as though I was slowing down. I opened my eyes once again, and saw the ground gradually meeting me. I tumbled clumsily to the ground, but I was alive. I nearly cried with relief, but then looked around me.   
  
Eighteen eyes were staring at me. I was surrounded by strange people all wearing odd clothes. They almost lookedlike they were dressed as...  
  
"No." I whispered, looking hard at a man with light brown hair, with a horn at his side.   
  
"Who are you?" Demanded a voice behind me. I twisted around and saw a man in grey robes with a pointy hat.   
  
"Eleanor Quame." I replied, still trying to make sense of this. When I went through the cloud ring, it transported me to Middle Earth. But that was absurd, yet here I was, with four very short young men (one of whom was holding the lead of a pony) whose large feet were definately not prosthetics.   
  
"Dark magic." came a gruff voice to my right. I glanced and saw the dwarf, glaring at me.   
  
"Where did you come from?" asked the elf standing beside Gimli.   
  
"Cherailles, Vermont." I answered truthfully. Legolas narrowed his eyes, "I saw you fall from the sky. We all did. Speak the truth!"   
  
There was a murmur of agreements. I looked around hopefully, but saw only hard stares in return.   
  
"I was flying, and then I fell." I said bluntly.   
  
"Just as I said, dark magic." growled Gimli.   
  
"Look, I'm just as confused as you are all." I stated, climbing to my feet. Merry took a step back, looking wide eyed at me.   
  
"Let us forget this wench, and continue the quest." Boromir barked. The others nodded. I stood there, feeling incredibly stupid, watching them all turn their backs on me and begin to walk away.   
  
"We can't just leave her here to die." Said a new voice behind me. It was Aragorn, who was still looking curiously at me. The other eight stopped, and swiveled back around.   
  
"But Strider, she does magic, and wears black." Frodo said, pointing to my black shirt.   
  
I wished to God I would have worn my white blouse.   
  
"Look, don't take this shirt to mean anything, I wear different colors every day." I protested, because Aragorn was now looking at me skeptically, too.   
  
"Ah, so you change sides daily, then, eh?" Gandalf said slyly, "And therefor we can not trust you."   
  
"Be reasonable!" I pleaded, "Sam's wearing blue, but that doesn't mean anything. Legolas has got on brown boots, but that doesn't mean he's a brown wizard."   
  
"Yes, but you don't see me falling from the sky, now do you?" Legolas shot.   
  
Yarr. It wasn't fair. I remembered reading tons of fanfictions that girls who entered Middle Earth were immediately loved by all the Fellowship. But now when I get the opportunity of a lifetime, no one seemed to like or trust me.   
  
"Please, " I began, almost frantically, "believe that I'm not evil, and that once I picked a side, I would stick to it."   
  
"Yes, but which side are you on?" Gandalf demanded, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"The good guys- you guys." I finished.   
  
"How can we trust her?" I heard Sam whisper to Frodo. Frodo looked me straight in the eye, and replied, "We'll just have to take her word, Sam."   
  
"Fine. Join us if you wish, " Aragorn began, "but your every action will be monitered. In a five days hence, we shall decide on which side your loyalties lie."   
  
There was another murmured agreement. I began to breathe more easily.   
  
"You'll have to keep up." warned Gimli. I shrugged, wondering where we were. I asked, and Boromir told be rather haughtily that we had just left Rivendell.   
  
"Oh boy, " I muttered under my breath, "I have to start at the beginning." I glanced over at Merry and Pippin, who'd been my favorite characters in the book, and found they were staring avidly at me. When our eyes met, the two ducked their heads, backed away, and walked behind me.   
  
I realized every member of the fellowship kept shooting me suspicious looks, and it was getting really old. What had I done wrong? I asked myself angrily, it wasn't my fault the airplane disappeared.   
  
When the sun finally set, we stopped. My legs were dying, and I was thirsty. Aragorn made a fire, and Boromir disappeared into the woods.   
  
I watched the others. Gimli was examining his axe, Merry, Pippin, and Frodo were talking in hushed voices, Sam was rummaging through his bag, and Gandalf was talking in Elvish to Legolas.   
  
The Elf nodded looking hard at me, and pulled something silvery from his pack, and set it by his side. Boromir returned, holding a dead buck, and set to work skinning it.   
  
Trust me when I say watching a person skin an animal does not whet the appetite. It was disgusting. I averted my eyes, and scuffled a few feet away from the circle. In an instant, Aragorn was behind me, pushing the broad side of his sword into my back.   
  
"Where are you going?" he hissed.   
  
"Boromir was grossing me out with all that blood and skin." I replied in frustration. The sword went back into his sheath, and he returned to his place.   
  
When the deer was finally roasted over the fire, Gimli hacked it to pieces with one of his smaller axes, and passed the meat all around. I got the smallest portion. Great. They were going to starve me. I figured their logic was, if I intended to kill them all in their sleep, at least I would be weak from hunger.   
  
After we all ate, I realized I was half right. Legolas approached me, holding the long silvery thing, and ordered me to sit against the tree. Confused, I did as he said. The silvery thing identified itself as a rope, and I soon found he intended on tying me against the tree for the night.   
  
"This is outrageous." I protested, knocking the rope from the archer's hand. Gimli and Boromir were at Legolas's side in a second, aiming their weapons at me.   
  
"Fine. Tie me up." I submitted, my insides boiling with indignation. Legolas proceeded to bind my wrists, and then tie me to the tree around my neck and waist.   
  
"Do you think I would kill you all in your sleep?" I demanded. Legolas cracked a grim smile, "Perhaps not, but if you are a spy of Sauron, we can't have you running away in the night to report our doings."   
  
"God forbid." I muttered. Legolas, ignoring me, knotted the rope, and, nodding, left. I don't know if you've ever been tied to a tree, maybe you have, but for those who haven't, it's really uncomfortable.   
  
I struggled for awhile to find a spot where I might have a chance of getting sleep, but failed. Pippin approached me, clutching his sword in both hands.   
  
"I'm supposed to guard you." he said in his Scottish accent. I grinned, and he, looking confused, sat a few feet away, and stared at me.   
  
Even more uncomfortable, and not just because of the tree, I asked, "So, Pip, what's new with you?"   
  
The hobbit shrugged. I wished I could hug him. "You're no' like the other men, Miss...Miss..."he faltered, obviously waiting for me to give him a name.   
  
"Eleanor." I replied. Pippin nodded, "You're no' like Strider or Boromir, then, Miss Eleanor."   
  
"We come from very separate worlds." I answered, craning my neck to see what the others were doing.   
  
"Where do you come from?"   
  
"I already told you."   
  
"No, what's i' like?" Pippin persisted. I thought for a moment, then said, "There are giant things as big as castles, but they look like boxes, and that's where people go to work. There aren't horses to ride, instead, there are small wagons that move by themselves that you have to control, and..." I went on telling him about electricity, subways, and fast food restraunts.   
  
The hobbit's eyes kept widening as I continued describing things in simplified version until he said, "Pardon, Miss Eleanor, I don' think I can take another thing in."   
  
"That's ok." I replied, glad he wanted me to stop. My mouth was getting dry. We sat in silence for a moment or two, and then I asked, "Hey Pip?"   
  
"Oy?" he answered, looking up.   
  
"Do you think you could get me some water?"   
  
Pippin got up, and went to his bag. He pulled out a deerskin bag with a wooden cap on it. He brought it back over, and uncorked the top.   
  
"Here, would you just pour it into my mouth then, please?" I asked, tilting my head back as far as it would go.   
  
Pippin somehow succeeded in drenching me with the whole contents of the container. He looked worried for a second, but then I grinned, to show him I wasn't mad. He gave a chuckle, and corked the flask.   
  
"Sorry, Miss Eleanor." he muttered, sitting down.   
  
"Don't worry about it, " I assured him, "I got a few swallows at least. Thanks."   
  
Pippin nodded, and yawned. I didn't say anything more, and let the hobbit sleep.   
  
.  
  
The next day, I realized I must have gotten some sleep, because I found Gimli roughly shaking me awake. He untied the ropes, and stalked back to the others. Stiff, cold, and tired, I stood up, and stretched.   
  
As we walked, Pippin joined me at the back, and managed to convince Merry to walk with us. The blonde hobbit did so, but kept giving me skeptical looks.   
  
Again, I cursed my horrid luck. Of all the plausable and undoubtably wonderful things that could have happened to me, I got landed being the mysterious, but by no means trustworthy figure. I sighed deeply, and glanced at Pippin, who was talking animatedly with Merry about gardening or something.   
  
I looked at the characters before me. Boromir seemed to be trying to forget that I even exsisted, as was Gimli. Legolas kept craning his head back to glare at me with his clear blue eyes, his brows furrowed, and turn slowly back to the path ahead of us.   
  
Frodo was constantly shooting glancing at me, and holding his hand to his throat, where the One Ring was undoubtably hanging, as if I was a threat to the survival of Middle Earth. Sam would look at me fearfully every now and then. With every stare I recieved, my temper rose.   
  
By the end of the day, when Legolas approached me with the rope, I'd had enough.   
  
"No!" I shouted forcefully. Legolas looked taken aback, dropped the rope, and began to reach for the knives on his back.   
  
"Slay her!" Boromir ordered, finally acknowledging my exsistence.   
  
"See it I care!" I shot at Boromir acidly. I was to frustrated and mad to care, "Just let me go. What have you got to lose? Let me leave, and I'll..." I trailed off, realizing a deeper part of my problem.   
  
How would I get back home? There wasn't a plane anywhere close, or even concieved in this world. I'd have to find another cloud-ring, and fly through it. Deep in thought, it took a second to realize that Legolas had retrieved the rope, and was advancing on me.   
  
I glared at him. He glared right back, and lunged. With Elven skill, no doubt, he managed to get the rope around me once, but by that time, my insticts surfaced, and I started fighting back.   
  
Aragorn darted over to us, and grabbed my legs. In a stately manner, Gandalf held my wrists together. It was a three to one fight. I lost, obviously, and when I was bound so tight to the tree I couldn't breathe properly, Gandalf straightened up, and said, "We cannot just 'let you go'. We still have not the chance to trust your word after that display. You must follow us until we are sure you can be allowed to leave and not tell of our business and whereabouts."   
  
"Fine." I snapped, enraged, and still panting from the struggle.   
  
Boromir was to be my guard that night, and spent the whole time staring darkly at me while I, trying to breathe normally, attempted to sleep. No such like, tonight, however. Whenever my eyes would close for longer than a normal blink, Boromir would cough loudly, jerking me back awake.   
  
After the fifth attempt followed by an obviously faked cough, I snapped my eyes opened, and glared my worst at the Steward of Gondor. He glared right back, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword.   
  
"Do you mind?" I hissed, "I'm trying to get some sleep tonight." Boromir smirked, and settled himself against the trunk of a nearbye tree, and closed his eyes. I followed suit, but no sooner were my eyes closed, then a great shriek rang through the woods.   
  
The whole company was too their feet in a heartbeat. Legolas, who, of course, didn't require sleep, was already drawing an arrow in his bow, and aiming at wildly about.   
  
It was the dead of night, and though there were no shadows, I felt a rush of blackness sweep over the ground. I looked up, and saw that a creature had blotted out the stars ahead.   
  
The ground beneath me gave a shake, and I concluded that whatever had been above us had now landed.   
  
"Ringwraiths!" called Gandalf, "Elessar! Hide the Hobbits. Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir, be ready for attack."   
  
So caught up in what the others were doing, I realized that no one had bothered to help me in any way.   
  
The air around me grew cold as abandonment sank in. I was tied to a tree, with a Nazgul scurrying the woods, and no one cared what was to happen to me. I tried not to pity myself, assuring my racing heart that it was better that Frodo was safe rather than me.   
  
Another screech resounded through the trees, and I shivered. Another followed the first, and then a third. I wracked my mind, trying to figure out if this made sense. Gandalf and Elrond had drowned the Nazguls' horses, but had the nine wraiths already aquired the flying monsters?   
  
Deciding sequential orders didn't matter at a time like this, I tested the ropes to see if there was any hope for escape. Legolas, however, had intended for me to stay by that tree until someone else untied me.   
  
There was a rustling behind me, and my heart wormed it's way to my throat, where it pounded painfully by my temples. A shriek errupted right behind me.  
  
Forgetting common sense, and adopting panic, I heaved myself away from the tree, resulting in the ropes digging into my shoulders and stomach. I strained my head to see what was behind me, and bit back a scream as a ringwraith stood barely a yard away from the trunk.   
  
His hooded head whipped around and the faceless dark mass stared stonily at me. It took a slow step closer to me, one hand reaching for its sword.   
  
'Oh please don't let that be a morgul blade.' I thought. Another step drew it closer to me. I turned to see what the others were doing. Aragorn and the Hobbits were nowhere to be seen, but the other four were all battling two wraiths, and, although it sounds like four against two would be an easy win, it wasn't.   
  
Legolas did a graceful kind of pivot as his knives flashed in each hand and he attacked one of the wraiths. During the spin, our eyes met, and I hoped that it dawned on him that I was tied and defenseless with a Nazgul shuffling towards me.   
  
The message had been conveyed, and Legolas sprinted over to the tree. In one movement, he slashed through the ropes, and yanked me up. He forced one of his knives into my fist, and went back to the fireside.   
  
I held the knife dumbly in my hand, looking at the wraith, who now had its own sword drawn, and aiming it threateningly at me.   
  
If Nazgul could laugh, I swear this one would be chuckling like there was no tomorrow. I knew I must look like an idiot, gripping a knife no bigger than one I had used to cut steak with, while my opponent had a sword most likely liable to melt if the tip penetrated my skin, poisoning my veins, and making me incurably ill for the rest of my life.   
  
So you can see, my options weren't good. The wraith took two more steps forward, and I took four steps back.   
  
Then, a loud "Aaaaiiiiieeeee!" pierced the air, more shrill than the Nazguls' scream. Two figures hurled themselves in front of me, wielding swords no longer than the knife Legolas had lent me.   
  
It was Merry and Pippin. 


	2. Accused of Theft

Disclaimer: Also, to my dismay, Legolas is not mine.   
  
Chapter Two  
  
My heart almost melted when I saw the two little ones waving their swords before the Nazgul. Now I'm sure the scene must have been interesting.   
  
The wraith almost looked confused. Not that I could blame him. Pippin lunged at the wraith. The latter parried the blow, and thrust its own sword towards the Hobbit.   
  
"No!" I cried, hurling myself forward, shoving the blade aside so it narrowly missed Pippin. Merry stabbed the wraith on its foot, but it only made contact with the metal armor around the said appendage.   
  
The wraith looked like it was about to counter-attack- but then paused, its head swiveled to one side, and I heard a sniffing sound from within the hood. The other wraiths had stopped fighting, and all three were sniffing the air excitedly.   
  
From nearby, I heard an anguished cry of, "Frodo!" and Aragorn burst onto the scene, his eyes flashing dangerously.   
  
"He put on the ring!" he wailed to Gandalf, who was looking worriedly around.   
  
"Fool!" spat Boromir, throwing his sword to the ground. The three Nazgul had disappeared in the second of confusion.   
  
"Frodo!" Gandalf called into the night, "Remove the ring! They can sense it!"  
  
There was a rustling sound, and Sam tumbled into the clearing, and seemed to be wrestling an invisible object.   
  
Aragorn hastened to Sam's side, and wrapped both arms around the thing Sam was fighting with.   
  
A second later, Frodo appeared, his bright blue eyes wide, and his face deathly pale.   
  
"Mr. Frodo!" cried Sam as Aragorn set the Hobbit to the ground.   
  
Frodo looked around bewildered, and promptly swooned.   
  
"What now, Gandalf?" Sam asked, in a panic.   
  
"We must flee." the wizard replied. I saw Gimli's shoulders slump, "But we can not let them win!"   
  
"Nay, but mortal weapons cannot destroy them." Aragorn replied, hastily shoving things in his pack.   
  
In a few seconds, everything was packed away, and Gandalf was leading the way deeper into the forest.   
  
"Come." Barked Boromir, glaring at me. I returned the glare, and followed.   
  
.  
  
By morning, I was exhausted, hungry, thirsty, cold, and miserable. I didn't dare complain, though. The fellowship decided that I was to blame for the wraiths finding us, and therefore didn't deserve the privoledge of acceptance and/or acknowledgement.   
  
Of course, when I say fellowship, I mean Gimli, Boromir, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gandalf. Frodo, Sam, and Merry apparently couldn't care less what happened to me. Only Pippin had a shred of compassion. He had, at least, protested when Boromir blamed me for the fight last night.   
  
Around noon, we finally stopped. Only because the Hobbits were begging for a rest and food. I silently agreed with them, and smiled gratefully at Aragorn when he said we could rest.   
  
He ignored me.   
  
Boromir pulled out some of the roasted deer from the other night, and divided it into equal portions of nine. As he was passing them around, Legolas nudged him and gave a curt nod at me.   
  
Exhaling loudly, Boromir slashed a small piece of stringy meat off, and shoved it at me. Scowling, I ate it quickly, and fell backwards on my back, looking up at the steely sky. The company was in a peaceful silence, and the next thing I knew, Gimli had kicked me in the side and was growling that we didn't have to sleep.   
  
Getting shakily to my feet, I saw the others standing with their backs to me, except Pippin, who was gathering up a small frying pan.   
  
As we continued the journey, Pippin, who was walking beside me, whispered, "How are yeh gettin' on, Miss Eleanor?"   
  
"Oh, just great." I replied, not bothering to keep my voice down, "I really enjoy being ignored and having cold stares shot at me, not to mention the whole 'I'm-not-trusted-enough-to-not-be-tied-up-to-a-tree' plan. I feel really accepted, wouldn't you?"   
  
Pippin gave me a sad smile. Merry slowed his gait, and became even with us. He looked up at me, and asked, "Is there in apple in your pack?"   
  
Hoping to be more trusted, I had volunteered to carry the food bag instead of Sam. I slung it off my shoulder, and dug around. I pulled out an apple, and handed it to Merry, who grinned widely, and hurried up and began talking with Frodo.   
  
Something, I can't remember what, made me remember the happenings of the night before. I realized that Legolas had never gotten his knife back. Panicing, I wondered when he would miss the blade.   
  
I knew when he did, he'd probably kill me. Folding my arms over my chest, I felt something brush my elbow. I looked down and saw my first stroke of luck. After the fight, I must have slipped the blade under my belt, and there it was. I grinned.  
  
Then I frowned. What would the others do to me if they found I still had Legolas's knife? They'd say I'd stolen it and was planning to kill them in their sleep.   
  
Cautiously and gradually, I hastened my pace so I was right behind the Elf. I spent some time figuring out where the knife belonged in his sack. Finally, I decided to gently slide it next to the other. I slowly pulled it from my belt, and checked to see that no one was watching.   
  
As quickly but safely as I dared, I began eased it into the bag.   
"You!" I heard an angry voice cry. I yanked the knife out and tried to hurriedly hide it, but it was too late.   
  
Boromir grabbed me roughly by the writs, and held my hand that was holding the knife up high for all to see.   
  
"Gandalf- surely this is proof of her treachery." Boromir spat, glaring at me like he'd never glared before.   
  
The others stopped, and looked at us. I felt the blood rise to my face in embaressment and anger. Legolas whipped around, and his eyes widened when he saw the blade.   
  
"What is this?" Aragorn demanded, striding closer to us.   
  
"This-" Boromir struggled for words, "-witch was stealing Legolas's knife. I caught her in the act."   
  
"Eleanor," began Gandalf, looking coldly at me, "is this true?"   
  
"No!" I cried, "I was returning it!"   
  
"If I may say-" Legolas began, but Gimli cut him off, saying, "So you have already carried out your plans, and it is only a matter of time before we find what she has slashed."   
  
"Last night-" Legolas tried again, but this time Frodo interrupted, "Gandalf, we cannot trust someone who steals."   
  
I glanced at Merry and Pippin, who had reddened, and were now looking curiously at Frodo. Gandalf looked hard at Frodo, then replied, "Nay, Master Frodo, especially one who steals weapons. On only the second day of her trial, Eleanor has prooved herself a troublesome, deceitful enemy. Now we must decide her sentance."   
  
"May I speak?" Legolas demanded rather forcefully. Everyone turned to him, and I prayed he would tell what had happened.   
  
"Last night," he began, looking around, as if daring someone to interupt him, "Eleanor was helpless against the Nazgul. I supplied her with one of my knives. Afterwards, I forgot to take it back. However, that doesn't explain why Lady Eleanor waited almost a day to return it."   
  
It was silent for a moment, then, "Legolas," Gandalf started, "do you realize the danger you put the whole fellowship in by trusting her with a weapon. We are still not sure of what side she is truly on. She could have killed us all."   
  
Boromir gave a snort of defiance, "I doubt this wench could have sneaked up on me." Aragorn and Gimli nodded.   
  
"Look," I protested, "doesn't this prove that I am on your side? I was trusted with a weapon. Did I even attempt to kill any of you? Did I do anything except defend myself with it? If you decide that I am an enemy solely because I was carrying a weapon, you must be really desperate to get rid of me."   
  
I paused to take a breath, everyone was staring at me, but I didn't care, I still had a few more things to say, "Do you think I enjoy being ignored and tied to trees? Would you like being given smaller portions of food than anyone else just because you're different? If I could leave you all, believe me, I would, but I have nowhere to go, and am in a foreign world. There's nowhere I could go."   
  
I stopped, glaring at all of them in turn, except Pippin.   
  
"Eleanor, " Aragorn began, his expression softening slightly, "you have given us a good point."   
  
Boromir gave a noise of objection, but Aragorn ignored him, "Perhaps we have been harsh. Please accept my humble apology." he approached me, bent, and kissed my hand.   
  
If only guys were all a chivalrous... I instantly forgave Aragorn. Maybe a bit stupid on my part, but hey, I'd never been kissed on the hand before. Giving a small smile, I returned the knife to Legolas.   
  
Giving me a hard look, Legolas snatched the knife from my hand. I guess I couldn't blame him. I'd made him look bad.   
  
We moved on. Gandalf started walking only when he was even with me. He surveyed me for a long while, until I began feeling uncomfortable, and stared at my feet as we plodded along.   
  
"You still have some explaining to do, Miss Quame." Gandalf said finally. I looked up at him, "What do you mean?"   
  
His bushy eyebrows narrowed, "Perhaps you have already forgotten how you are even alive this moment?"   
  
I stared at him cluelessly. He sighed, and drew out his pipe, lit it, and then said, "If I remember correctly, you came here by plummeting from the sky, yet you didn't die. I am waiting for an explanation."   
  
I thought for a moment. Obviously, a moment too long, because Gandalf made an impatient noise, and quickened his pace to join Aragorn at the front. As he hurried away, I heard him mutter, "I'm keeping a close eye on you."   
  
"Was that a threat?" I whispered, glaring at the wizard. Pippin, who was walking besides me, shrugged. "I would like to know how you did that trick too." he mumbled softly. I sighed, wondering where on earth I was going to get answers.  
  
----------------------  
  
Acharnae: Yey! You're reviewer #1. The whole tumbling from the sky but not getting hurt deal will get resolved. Tubby...That's a word I need to use more. Hehehe, alright, if I type much more, it will be mindless prattle.  
  
-Cynthia 


	3. Accused of Trivial Mutiny

Disclaimer: Since Sam refuses to remain hiding in my closet, Tolkien found him, and now I don't own him either. :Sigh:  
  
Chapter Three  
  
That night, whether it was because Legolas had slashed the rope we had, or they fellowship decided to trust me, I was not bound to any tree. There was much rejoicing on my part.   
  
However, Gandalf had ordered Legolas to stay awake all night, and watch me. We had a quiet meal (my portion of the food was still suspiciously smaller), and then we went off in our own little groups. The Hobbits huddled in one corner, yawning and searching for any leftovers. Gandalf, Boromir, and Aragorn sat disgussing things in hushed voices, leaving Legolas, Gimli, and me to think of a topic we could all talk about.   
  
Gimli showed no signs of wanting anything to do with me. He sat around sharpening the blades on his many axes, giving masculine grunts every now and then as he held the said weapons to the firelight to see his work.   
  
"So, " I began, stretching my legs out, looking over at Legolas, "you don't need sleep or food, eh?"   
  
Legolas gave me a startled look, and replied shortly, "Yes, my race requires no rest nor food. How is it you know this?"   
  
I shrugged. My mind was whirring for some explanation of how this was possible. An answer arose from the depths, and before I thought about was I was going to say, I blurted, "So you're more of a plant than a human."   
  
Legolas looked confused and a bit offended. Quickly, I defended myself, saying, "I mean, plants don't need food, because they make their own from sunlight in the process of photo-" I trailed off, because now Gimli was looking with an odd sort of interest gleaming in his eyes.   
  
"-synthesis." I finished, "It all makes sense when you think about..." I stopped talking, because Legolas was now looking like he was fighting an internal battle. Finally, he errupted, "I don't know if I'm more insulted for you comparing my race to a plant or human! Will you be calling the Halflings fungi next? Or is the Dwarf perhaps the fungi? He certainly does live it he dark, and put a hideous flaw in anyone's garden."   
  
"Now see here!" Roared Gimli, clamboring to his feet, "I don't like your implications, Elf."   
  
Now all the fellowship was watching the two bicker, with me, standing confused in the middle. Wow. All I wanted was to create a conversation.   
  
"Yes?" Legolas retorted, "I haven't exactly been enjoying your company, either, Dwarf, so if you value that grotesque head on your stunted shoulders in the least-"   
  
"You threaten me?!" Gimli exclaimed. He shot a glance over at me, a look of triumph in his eyes, "You are nothing more than a weed! An ugly weed that is vexing, but not worth the energy to uproot."   
  
"Gimli! Legolas!" Gandalf bellowed. The Elf, face red and twisted with rage, seemed to deflate slightly, and turned to Gandalf.   
  
"My apologies, Mithrandir, for that display. It won't happen again." Legolas said, glaring at Gimli. The Dwarf gave a growl, and sat back down.   
  
Before I got yelled at too, I sneaked over to where the Hobbits were, and pretended I had been there the whole time.   
  
Boromir, however, must have seen the entire thing, for he stomped over, saying, "Now that you have at least gained Aragorn's trust, do you wish to make us all turn on each other?"   
  
I gave a weak shake of my head. Scowling, he returned to the campfire.   
  
"He's never going to like me." I muttered.   
  
"He doesn't like me either." Frodo said. I glanced at him in shock. That was the first decent thing he had said to me. I grinned, and Frodo shrugged, his hand automatically going to the Ring on the chain.   
  
"Eleanor!" Gandalf shouted, turning to me. I sighed, guessing what he was about to say. "Get back where Legolas can keep an eye on you."  
  
Giving a wave to the hobbits, I reluctantly returned to my place. Legolas, sitting as if he had a hanger still in his shirt, or tunic-whatever it was, had his head bent, and was looking up at me through his lashes.   
  
Gimli, red in the face, and stalked over to where Boromir and Aragorn were talking, and kept throwing dirty looks at Legolas and me. I exhaled again, and leaned back, looking up into the leafyness above me.   
  
.  
  
The next day we walked. And walked. And walked. Did I mention we walked? Alot? This fellowship will make an explorer out of me yet. My legs had begun to get somewhat muscular, which helped me not get so tired as quickly as I had before. Merry had started getting a bit more familiar with me, every once in a while striking up a conversation. Sam, however, forever clutching the lead to Bill the pony, didn't seem to trust me at all. Big suprise there.   
  
The next night, I was again guarded by Legolas. We spent some time discussing nicknames, and at my suggestion of calling Gandalf Alf, Legolas actually cracked a small smile.   
  
Ha! I was making progress. After much talking, miraculously, I had stimulated a- get ready for it- sense of humor hidden in Legolas. I was reminded back in the book the Hobbit, where all the elves were cheery and mischievous.   
  
"Boromir shall be Bor," Legolas began, grinning, "and Aragorn must be Gorn. the dwarf is Gim, and you shall be El."   
  
I nodded, smiling like a fool. It was sinking in that I'd made a friend, or at least, gotten closer to the Elf.   
  
Or so I thought.   
  
As Legolas was musing about nicknames for the hobbits, his head jerked, and his face snapped from amiable to serious in a matter of seconds.   
  
"What is this folly you engage me in?" he demanded severely, his back stiffening to its normal posture.   
  
"I-" I began, startled, but Legolas interrupted, "You make me lose my place, El. Go to your human sleep, and let me meditate." So saying, he closed his eyes, and his face took on a peaceful expression.   
  
Confused and sad, I fell onto my back, and went to sleep. Only in the morning did it occur to me that Legolas had addressed me by my nickname he himself had settled on the night before.   
  
That morning I walked deep in thought as we progressed through the wood. We finally left the said geographical feature, and found a vast plain before us, studded with hills and boulders.   
  
Then it started to rain. Within minutes, I was soaked to the skin, and the cold, penetrating wind was freezing me to the bones. I glanced at the Hobbits. At least they had cloaks to somewhat protect them from the wind, if not the rain.   
  
Gandalf didn't seem to care, Legolas, the perfect being, probably didn't feel any inconvenience at all. I was up to my ears in jealousy. Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli kept stony faces, and though I'm sure they were as cold as I, the were men, and therefore could endure anything if the alternative was showing a hint of weakness.   
  
I used that pride to my advantage.   
  
"Hey Boromir." I called. He nodded his head, to acknowledge that he heard me, and I continued, "Since you are a big tough man, would you mind giving up your cloak? My joints are-" But I didn't need to complain anymore. If he refused, that would prove to Aragorn and the others that he wasn't as tough as they. The pride of men prevailed.   
  
Growling, Boromir whipped off his cloak, and shoved it at me. Grinning through my numbness, I said, "Thanks!" brightly, and wrapped myself tightly in it.   
  
It helped somewhat.   
  
.  
  
We traveled alot that day, and finally, when the sun set, Gandalf let us stop for the night.   
  
"Where are we, Gandalf?" Merry asked, wrapping his cloak around him tighter.   
  
"The Fields of The'enrial*." Gandalf replied, "Those mountains yonder," he continued, pointing with his staff in the distance, where fog smothered mountains loomed, "are our first real obstacle."  
  
"Caradhras." Gimli muttered, "Gandalf, my cousin, Balin, would give us a warm welcome should we pass through Moria."   
  
"Nay Gimli, I would not go through Moria unless it was the only way." Gandalf answered. Gimli looked crestfallen, and began shuffling through his pack.   
  
My thoughts were torn. If we went through Moria, Gandalf would fall, and then everyone would be sad, but if we went over Caradhras, it would be cold; Gandalf wouldn't die, and that might change the plot drastically. I sighed.   
  
* The Fields of The'enrial are a figment of my imagination. You can't find them on the map of Middle Earth Tolkien so conviniently drew. I mean, you can look, but they aren't there...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Acharnae: Nifty name. I wish I could be kissed on the hand :Sigh: Ah well. Lots of things aren't as great as they're cracked up to be, like school, school dances, and semicolons.   
  
TitanicHobbit:hehe, your name makes me chuckle as I get a mental image of a hobbit aboard the Titanic. First class, of course... Peachy....awesome adjective....:-) 


	4. Accused of False Prophecy

Disclaimer: Shadowfax continues to ignore my whistles and various calls, so I guess I can't have him either. Tolkien's so lucky...  
Chapter Four  
  
Up Caradhras we went. Frodo slipped, tumbled down a few feet of snow, and managed to loose the ring. Hastily, I snatched it up before Boromir could, and handed it to Frodo.   
  
Frodo looked at me suspiciously, and when I glanced at Boromir, he was frowning.   
  
Oh, it was cold. The wind and snow was slashing through Boromir's cloak I was still borrowing(If he wasn't so proud, he might have demanded it back, but no, he hand to prove his strength. Aragorn seemed to think Boromir was showing off, and let Sam use his own cloak. Both of these men were going to get frostbite and die before the ring was destroyed.).  
  
When night fell, it only got colder.   
  
"No." said Gandalf for the third time after I begged him to light a fire, "We would be giving our position away. Do you want that?" "Most likely." Gimli growled. I glared at him, and hugged myself tighter. The hobbits were huddled together, and Boromir seemed to be ignoring the fact that his face was turning deathly blue.   
  
Finally, worried for his life, I gave him his cloak back. He snarled at me, grumbling something about not needing it, but then wrapped himself up tightly in it.   
  
I was now colder than before. I shivered, my teeth chattering so loudly Legolas was giving me funny looks.   
  
I cursed him silently. Stupid Elves, I thought bitterly, they don't get cold. After awhile of watching us all rattle with cold, Gandalf withdrew a small leather flask.   
  
"Here, you eight: Drink this." he instructed, handing it to Pippin, "It is miruvor, the cordial of Imladris."   
  
When it finally go to me(I was last to recieve it, by the way), as I swallowed a mouthful, my insides, especially my heart, instantly warmed a great deal, but it also made me intensley sleepy. I looked over at the hobbits and saw the four looking rather sleepy, too.   
  
I dropped off to sleep, only to awake in the early hours of morning stiff, hungry, and freezing.   
  
We continued on our way. Then a blizzard struck. I felt the time was coming, but I wished it would be delayed so I could have more time to think, but all too soon, the hobbits were looking sick with cold, and Aragorn cried out, "Gandalf, the Halflings will surely perish unless we find shelter or another route."   
  
"We could go through the Mines of Moria." Gimli suggested forcefully.   
  
"Let the Ringbearer decide." Aragorn said.   
  
"No!" I cried. Everyone turned to look at me. Gimli scowled. Ignoring him, I continued, "Moria is not an option. It has been apprehended by orcs. All the inhabitants are dead."   
  
The nine stared incredulously; Gimli especially.   
  
"Balin would never let that happen." he replied confidently, looking up at me through his bushy eyebrows. "Balin is dead." I said quietly. Gimli's expression seemed to wilt, but he quickly hid it with a frown, "How do you know?"   
  
I briefly entertained the notion of saying, "Because Tolkien says so." but abandoned it at the thought of all the questions coming from that. Finally, I replied, "Just trust me that it has."   
  
"How can we trust her word?" Boromir demanded sharply.   
  
I rounded on him. I didn't care much for Gandalf, but I knew that he meant so much to Frodo, Sam, and the others. The scene after Gandalf fell into Kazad Dum in the movie kept replaying in my mind. The tears that fell from Sam, Merry, and Pippin, the look of hopelessness in Legolas's eyes, and despair etched in every line of Frodo's face.   
  
Then the question came back to my mind. What will happen if Gandalf lives? There will be no transition between Gandalf the Grey and Mithrandir the White. The Balrog would live on. Gandalf wouldn't get Shadowfax. He would see Lorien. He would be there when Boromir would try to take the ring from Frodo.   
  
Then it hit me.   
  
I could determine the fate of Middle Earth. I could stop the death of Boromir. If Gandalf lives, he could accompany Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom. Could I prevent the breaking of the Fellowship? It felt as though a huge weight had fallen on my shoulders as the others looked expectantly at me.   
  
My mind swirled. The impact of such a responsibility kept ricocheting in my mind, pummeling common sense. The Fellowship began to fade from my vision. Everything had gone grey and black... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sorry, that was a really short chapter (for my standards, anyway)  
  
Archanae: Well, they wear green...Hehe, interesting idea. Legolas, during the journey goes to shed his skin....Ok, I have too much time. Anyway, yes, I love Boromir too, and he will get better eventually.   
  
TitanicHobbit: Yey! Another Jack Sparrow lover! Chapter five is on its way...savvy? 


	5. Accused of Theft on a Grander Scale

Disclaimer: If I told you owned everything Tolkien, would you honestly believe me?  
  
Chapter Five  
  
I awoke with a start as I was dropped on a snow covered rock. I say it was snow covered, because if it hadn't been, my back would probably be broken at this time.   
  
I gave a yelp in pain, snapping my eyes open. Boromir was standing above me glaring down, and Legolas and Aragorn were also looking down their noses at me.   
  
"What was that for?" I demanded, rubbing my back. Boromir gave a satisfied smile, and clomped away.   
  
"You swooned." Aragorn said, jerking my thoughts back into order.   
  
"I-" I began, but Gimli interrupted me, growling, "Fainted."   
  
Oh God. I had fainted. Of all the undignified ways to deal with a problem, I had fainted. Now the Fellowship was going to catalogue me in the 'Faint-Hearted' or 'Weak'.  
  
I have never fainted before. The problem wasn't that faint-worthy, either. What was going on?   
  
"El. We must continue." Legolas ordered, jerking me from my reverie.   
  
"Right." I mumbled, scrambling to my feet. The snow had let off, but it was still really cold.   
  
"How long have I been out?" I whispered to Pippin as we continued on our way.   
  
"A few hours." he answered, and said no more.   
  
Things just kept going unanswered. How I managed not to die in the first place, after falling from the sky, Legolas's cheerful behaviour changing suddenly, and now my fainting. I sighed. My brain seemed broken, as if I had once had all the information I needed, but now it was just a litter of shattered glass.   
  
As the sun began to sink behind the mountain, I glanced at Gandalf. It registered that we hadn't gone to Moria.   
  
I asked why as we settled down for the night, and Gimli muttered darkly, "Gandalf took it as an omen when you fainted after telling us not to go, and now we shall all freeze to death."   
  
So it was my fault, I translated from his gruff speech. Now Gandalf wasn't going to fall. How much had I already screwed up this mission? I curled into a ball, trying to keep in any body heat, and watched Merry beg Gandalf for more of the Miruvor. Gandalf shook his head sadly, and withdrew his pipe.   
  
I looked around to see Sam throwing his cloak around the pony's stomach, and then crawling up against the beast to keep it warmer. Boromir and Aragorn sat back to back keeping warm the masculine way. Gimli sat alone a ways off, muttering something. Legolas kept a keen eye on everyone and everything as the others tried to keep warm. Frodo sat by Merry and Pippin, all three of whom were huddled tightly to conserve warmth.   
  
I longed for a friend. My joints were frozen, and I had no one to huddle with. Cold self pity settled in my already frigid insides. Feeling miserable and alone, I curled up tighter, and fell into a troubled sleep.   
  
.  
  
The next afternoon we came across a hole carved from the mountainside. Gimli gave a noise of jubilation as he informed us that there were inscriptions in the Dwarven language.   
  
"Gandalf," he began, "This may not be Moria, but it is a small settlement in the least. Let us go to the hospitatity of the Dwarves."   
  
Gandalf went into a deep conversation with Aragorn in Elven, making Gimli scowl. Without a word in English, Aragorn swiftly entered the hole, and out of sight.  
  
"What is the meaning of this Gandalf?" Gimli demanded.   
  
"Patience, Master Gimli." Gandalf began, "Elessar has gone to see if there are indeed Dwarves and if they would be willing to accept us as guests."   
  
"And why couldn't I have done that?" Gimli persisted, swelling with anger.   
  
"You have not the calmness and subtlty that Elessar has." Legolas snapped. Gimli rounded on him, and exploded in what I can only assume were Dwarvish curses and swears.   
  
In my opinion, Dwarven is like German, both sound like every other word is a curse word, and they all sound unpleasant.   
  
Legolas just stood there taking it like a man until Gimli stopped his raving. Aragorn had returned.   
  
"Ai, Gandalf, there are Dwarves, and they do not mind housing us for a night."   
  
Legolas opened his mouth in protest, but Aragorn interrupted, saying, "They are survivors of the Moria assault. Indeed, Moria was attacked by goblins."   
  
Gimli bowed his head. It was silent for a few minutes, then Gandalf said, "They are willing to house us?" Aragorn nodded.  
  
"Good," Boromir said, "we must get the halflings out of this cold."   
  
"I shall stay out here." Legolas said rather sulkily.   
  
"Don't be a fool." Gandalf said gently, but forcefully.   
  
"We Elves do not dwell under the earth." he replied stubbornly.   
  
"You won't be 'dwelling' down there!" I burst out, "It's one night." Legolas glared at me, "Ai, but I do not think I can bear the company of more than one Dwarf, especially if Gimli is in the number."   
  
The Dwarf decided to ignore the comment, and said, "Then let us leave this obstinate blonde weed out here. Maybe he'll freeze." he added hopefully.   
  
If looks could kill, Gimli would have died a thousand times over by now. Legolas moved his steely eyes to Gandalf, "I will remain out here. The cold does not affect me as it does you."   
  
"But-" Gandalf began, however, he was interrupted by Aragorn, who was shooting worried glances at the Hobbits.   
  
"Enough!" the future king of Gondor snapped. Everyone turned to him and he finished, "Legolas, stay out and keep watch. The nine of us will stay among the dwarves. We must get out of the cold."   
  
I glanced up at the sky. It was darkening by the second. It smelled like a blizzard was coming. You know how you can smell a storm approaching? I usually love that smell, but not when I'm near the summit of a mountain.   
  
Following Aragorn, the eight us entered the hole, leaving Legolas standing guard, scowling.   
  
Aragorn led us down a windy passage way that steadily went down further into the mountain. It was still bitterly cold, but there wasn't a wind to worry about.   
  
When Aragorn had said there were Dwarves, I assumed he meant a settlement like one of Moria, with cavernous rooms that went up so high the ceilings were in shadows, and chasms leading to lower rooms. I expected it to be thriving with life, and bright lights illuminating all the faces and things.   
  
I was sadly mistaken. We finally entered a large somewhat circular room, that did indeed have a shadowed ceiling, but it reminded me of a little village more than anything else.   
  
There were two levels. We were on the bottom, where small carts selling rocks and an assortment of other things were set up. There were about a dozen dwarves in this 'marketplace'.   
  
On the second level, which was accessible only by a set of stairs carved from the far wall. There was a wide pathway also carved from the wall circumnavigating all the way around the room. Short archways led to what I guessed the Dwarves called their homes.   
  
As soon as we stepped foot in the room, most of the dwarves stopped what they were doing to stare at us.   
  
Gandalf approached them and began talking to them in Dwarvish. Sighing, one nodded, looking hard at us. He motioned us to follow him.   
  
This caused a problem when Sam asked where Bill was to stay. After much arguing, it was decided the pony remain in the marketplace. After that, we followed the Dwarf up to on of the larger houses. He led us through some hallways and into a crude, unfinished room.   
  
I say unfinished because the floor and walls were not smooth rock, like the other surfaces in the house.   
  
The dwarf watched us get situated, and then said gruffly, looking coldly at all of us, "You stay here only because his" he pointed at Gimli, "father's friend Dwalin is my cousin. Dwalin spoke much of your father." he added gruffly.   
  
Gimli, who had been unpacking, looked up sharply at the mention of Dwalin, and asked, "Is Dwalin here?"   
  
The dwarf gave a sound of negation, turned on his heel and left. Gimli frowned.   
  
"A bit cold here." Boromir noted, looking after where the dwarf had disappeared.   
  
"Better than outside, though." Frodo replied, taking off his cloak. Boromir shook his head, "Nay, Master Frodo, I meant the Dwarves' attitude towards us was cold."   
  
I couldn't resist the oppurtunity, "Yes," I began acidly, "don't you just hate it when people treat you like dirt and make you feel unwanted and stupid?"   
  
Boromir shot me a glare of pure resentment.   
  
"What's on the menu?" Pippin asked, obviously not catching the current of annoyance flowing between Boromir and myself.   
  
Meager portions of meat were handed out by Aragorn, and we ate in silence.   
  
It felt good to sleep in a warm place. Alright, it could have been warmer, but I'm not complaining.   
  
.  
  
I woke to the sound of fire crackling merrily. I stretched sleepily, and sat up, looking around. Everyone else was asleep. Something felt wrong. I looked around, trying to locate where the sound of fire was coming from.   
  
It was nowhere within sight, that was for sure. I strained my ears. Suddenly, a high pitched scream met my ears. I jumped, and looked to see if anyone else had heard it. Not even Aragorn, the ranger stirred.   
  
Panicing, I leapt to my feet, and hurried down the hallway. I went to the balconey, and looked down at the marketplace.   
  
A large bonfire was burning sinisterly, emitting a thick heavy blue-black smoke. I coughed as I inhaled, looking wildly around. Dwarves were wielding flashing battle axes at mountain goblins, who were fighting back with clubs and/or axes.   
  
As I watched them fight, I saw the Dwarves weakening, spluttering in the smoke. The goblins, however, seemed unaffected. After awhile, the Dwarves fell to their hands and knees, falling to an unnatural sleep.   
  
I pounded back to where we had been sleeping, and tried to rouse the Fellowship. None of them would wake. When I got to Gandalf, to my relief, his eyes snapped open, and he clambored to his feet.   
  
"What is it?" he demanded urgently. I told him what I had saw, and, muttering darkly in some language, he stormed down the hall, with me following meekly in his wake.   
  
Before he reached the balconey, he rounded on me, ordering, "Try again to wake the others, drag them if you must, but get them out of this cave."   
  
He left me standing helplessly. I returned to the room, and looked at the seven. The Hobbits would be easy to drag, but what about Gimli, Aragorn, and Boromir?   
  
Deciding it was important to get Frodo out first, and I grabbed him by the wrists, and tried to pull him to the hallway. He was as heavy as lead, only limper. Impulsively, I snatched the Ring from around his throat; If he didn't make it out of here, the journey had to continue. I wondered momentarily why I hadn't been affected by whatever it was that was making the others sleep.   
  
The Ring in my fist, I tried lugging Frodo again. I got him about five feet. The smoke had seeped through the hallway, and was creeping towards me like some nightmarish fog. I didn't want to know what would happen if I breathed it in for too long of a period.   
  
I heard the clanging of axes fade. A stillness settled over me. I stared apprehensively at the smoke, which faded and disappeared.   
  
I straightened up, looking back into the room. Gimli stirred, and rolled over. Aragorn's eyes flickered open, and when he looked at me, still holding Frodo by the wrists, he jumped to his feet. His sword, which had somehow come unbuckled from his belt clattered to the floor, waking everyone else up.   
  
Frodo jerked. I released my hold, and let him scramble to his feet. His hand went instictively to his throat.   
  
As his eyes widened as he felt the Ring's absence, I swore at my self.   
  
"Here." I said muttered, looking at the rough floor, shoving the Ring at him. He seized the said object from me, now looking suspiciously at me.   
  
"Caught! What is your implausible excuse this time, you thieving lying wench?" Boromir demanded, advancing on me, and snatched a large amount of hair from the top of my head, and forcing me to look up.   
  
As calloused and tough as my feet and hands had become, my head has been, and always will be, incredibly sensitive. Boromir managed to get just a large enough portion so he wouldn't yank my hair out, but not enough so the pain was spread out. Oh, it hurt.   
  
I looked up at his coldly glaring eyes, and anger welled up in me. He was so conclusive, so bent on proving I was the enemy. Before I thought of what I was about to do, or think twice about it, my fist shot out and connected neatly with his jaw.   
  
Boromir staggered back, rubbing his jaw and looking shocked at me.   
  
"I was trying to save all of your lives." I snapped. The seven stared at me, and I barreled on, "Goblins infiltrated this dwelling, and burned this weird smoke that put everyone to sleep. Gandalf went to fight them, and I came back here to try and get you to safety. I attempted to get Frodo first, because he's the ringbearer, but I kept the ring for safe-keeping."   
  
"And where is Gandalf?" Aragorn asked in a low voice.   
  
"I don't know." I answered quietly, my anger changing to uncertainty. I had no proof whatsoever that I hadn't been trying to run away with the ring. Gandalf, the only one who could vouch for me, had disappeared.   
  
A familiar feeling was swelling inside me. Tunnel sight clouded my periphreal vision. Bent against the action the was overcoming, I bowed my head, and took deep breaths. My sight returned. I had avoided fainting again. This was getting stranger all the time.   
  
I looked boldly back at the seven, who were all looking skeptically at me.   
  
"You don't believe me." I concluded softly. Boromir shook his head, looking piercingly at me.   
  
"Fine!" I screamed, making Frodo jump. The others continued their stares mercilessly.   
  
"I give up!" I shouted. My voice echoed and bounded off the walls. "This isn't worth it. Good luck on your quest. Boromir" I practically screamed. His smug face made me want to hurt him again, I continued, "you will die. You will try to take the Ring from Frodo, and you will die." I stressed every syllable. I wanted the message to be inescapably clear.   
  
Boromir didn't even flinch. Fury seethed in my veins, and, powered by adredeline, I stormed my way out of the room, through the tunnel, and into the main chamber.   
  
I heard hushed vioces behind me. As I entered the tunnel, I heard footsteps advancing on me. I ignored the, and walked faster.   
  
Whoever was behind me had grabbed another fistfull of my hair and yanked. I gave a strangled yelp, and fell backwards.   
  
"Curse you, Boromir!" I shouted, whirling around, looking at my opponent.   
  
But it wasn't Boromir. It wasn't any member of the fellowship.   
  
It was a goblin. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sorry it took so long to get this out....  
  
x0firefly0x: He. He. I was hoping no one would ever read that review I sent. After I sent it, I reread it and panicked when I saw how many things I'd written, criticizing the author, were incorrect. Yeah, please don't judge me by that review. I was stupid, and I regret it. Anyway- James=brown eyes. K. I knew that!  
  
Archanae: Well, you know, they aren't exactly like plants, just simliar..... I love Boromir too. Have you seen the EE of the Two Towers? I love the scene with him and Faramir drinking their foam. It's so nifty.  
  
Chapter six is on it's way..... 


	6. Goblin Attack and a Rant on Elves

Merry Christmas, I hope all of you readers had a day yesterday. I did. An Eomer action figure, a Return of the King visual companion book, and a fuzzy scarf. Life is good.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Its face split into a hideous grin as its long boney fingers wrapped themselves more tightly in my hair. I panicked. My foot shot out and I kicked the goblin's shin. It winced, and its grip tightened. Tears of pain welled up in my eyes as I tore myself away from the creature, leaving it holding a good handful of my hair.   
  
I began to run away, hearing its pursuit. I continued down the passageway. If I could make it to daylight, the goblin couldn't follow me. I hurled myself along, while the footsteps grew closer. I heard it shrieking in its own language, and more pounding of feet were heard.   
  
I stopped as my feet sunk into the deep snow, looking around. It was nighttime. Legolas, who had been huddled against the rock, leapt to his feet at my appearence. I found it hard to string words together; I babbled.   
  
The goblins followed me right out into the dark, and seized my wrists, hair, and feet. They had the element of suprise on their side, and Legolas was still looking stunned when a goblin lunged at him and beat the Elf in the head with its club. Legolas crumpled to the ground instantly. It briefly struck me odd that Legolas, an Elf, could succumb to goblins, but I had other problems on my hands. The goblins tied me up with coarse rope, and dragged me back into the cave.  
  
I screamed, that is, until they gagged me. I heard footsteps and cries echo in the cavern. I heard an arrow zing through the air, and felt a goblin's grip loosen. I turned and saw Aragorn at the edge of the balcony, stringing another arrow. Boromir joined his side, and hurried down the steps. The others soon followed, Gimli swinging his ax at any goblin in sight so furiously I gave him ample clearence.   
  
As I was doing so, however, Boromir had wound his way over to me. I was in his way. He ungentlmanly shoved my shoulder, knocking me to the ground. I scuttled out of his desired room, and near the edge of the cave, feeling useless.   
  
Looking around, I wondered where Gandalf had run off to. I remembered from The Hobbit, he always seemed to leave when Bilbo and the Dwarves needed him the most. I sighed, and muttered darkly, "Wizards."  
  
A goblin not engaged in battle with any of the Fellowship turned his head and saw me from the corner of its eye (do goblins have a gender?), did a silly double take, and charged at me.   
  
I skitteredd back, my hands groping behind me to find any sharp kind of object. Oh, but of course THAT wasn't going to happen. God forbid something convenient come my way.   
  
I backed into the corner, a rock digging painfully into the small of my back, but I had other things to worry about.   
  
The goblin lunged at me, its dull jagged 'sword' swinging erratically. I jumped to my feet with surprising speed, and moved out of the way. The goblin, with kinetic energy working against it, tried to slow itself before running into the wall.   
  
I leapt behind it, and pushed the back of its head with all my might. A nice, satisfying hollow thud resounded in the room as the goblin's skull made contact with the rocky wall. It crumpled to the ground.   
  
I grinned, and looked to see if anyone had seen my victory. The fighting had decreased, and now only a handful of goblins remained.   
  
Within ten minutes, the goblins lay dead, unconscious, or gone. Gimli gave a growl of triumph while Aragorn and Boromir nodded at each other in the unspoken language of man.   
  
"We musn't linger here." Frodo voiced. I glanced up, and saw the four hobbits standing above us.   
  
"Your help was appreciated, haflings." Boromir said with a touch of sarcasm. Merry reddened, "My sword is dull- I- Pip said you didn't need us-Sam-"  
  
"Be at peace; worry not, Hobbits, your time in battle will come." Aragorn said, a grin growing on his face.   
  
"Where's Bill?" Sam suddenly asked.   
  
"Legolas!" I burst out, remembering his fallen form. Without another word, I dashed out of the cave, down the long tunnel out to the snow.   
  
Elves. Those disgustingly lucky beings. If I'd been knocked out by a goblin, and left laying in the snow, I would have fallen in an undignified heap, and have probably been face down in the snow, resulting in a chapped face, no doubt.   
  
Legolas, however, had fallen gracefully, daintily, on his side, with his pale face exposed to the darkness of the sky. His hair, perfect as always, lay delicately over his shoulders, an it looked more like he'd falled asleep then been thwacked on the head by a club.   
  
Sighing at the unfairness of it all, I grabbed his wrists, and pulled him into the tunnel, away from the wind, and flurrying snow.   
  
As soon as the outside air was deprived of his unconscious form, his grey blue eyes opened, and he stood up, knocking his head on the ceiling.   
  
"Aer gwing aras." he muttered, rubbing the side of his head, undoubtably where he'd been struck, and looked at me.   
  
"What has happened?" he asked, "Where are the others?"   
  
"In the cave..." I trailed off, because Legolas had darted off, disapearing down the hall of stone as if nothing had happened.  
  
"You're welcome." I mumbled, and trudged after him towards a fellowship that excluded me in almost every way possible.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Archanae: Dwarvish reminds me of German in the movie. You're German? Nifty. I'm taking German in school. I can't help but notice the reoccuring references to Boromir in your reviews....I wonder who your favorite character is.... Yes, wench bothers me too, but at the moment, I can't think of another word. Call it brainfreeze. It is odd how lots of people consider it an insult. My guess is it's because it seems that the when people use the term 'maid' or 'maiden' it's used to describe the beautiful heroine, and 'wench' seems to be used more when describing a prostitute or something. Your guess is as good as mine, though. 


	7. Avalanch

Author's Apology: In chapter six, I realize I made a really stupid mistake. I use the phrase "falled asleep." My most sincere apologies, when I reread the chapter after I uploaded it, I saw that spelling bleb, and wondered if you considered me now with a lower intelligence, since Legolas "falled" asleep. Sorry. It shouldn't happen again, but it probably will.   
  
Chapter Seven  
  
In the morning, we set back out into the bitter cold to face Caradhras again. Gandalf still had not returned.   
  
As I slung a pack on my back, Pippin drew near me, rumaging through his own bag.   
  
"I saw your assault. Lovely job." he said softly, grinning. I grinned too, glad someone had seen my victory.   
  
My spirits lifted slightly, the cold blast of wind as we exited the tunnel didn't bother me as much as it would have normally.   
  
By afternoon, Aragorn explained that we had probably reached the highest we would be climbing, and now it was all downhill. I noticed that Frodo kept stealing glances behind us.   
  
"What?" I asked finally. Frodo ignored me, and caught up with Aragorn, and inquired, "What about Gandalf?"   
  
"I do not doubt that he will return to us. Perchance he had other business to attend to." Aragorn supplied. Frodo nodded, and fell back with the other Hobbits and Bill.   
  
As we continued on a narrow ledge alongside the mountain, I felt a change in the wind. Something was different, and it felt.. not good, I'll leave it at that. It made me feel uneasy. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed, but if they did, their expression didn't reveal it.   
  
The once light snow thickened, and as the sun was setting the makings of another blizzard were on hand.   
  
Suddenly, Legolas, atop the snow, sprinted forward, and looked out into the snow and wind. "There is a fell voice on the wind." he exclaimed, looking back at us.   
  
"Saruman!" Aragorn yelled, and made his way to Legolas's side. I glanced up worriedly at the overhang of snow and rock right above us. The vibrations of Aragorn's cry had made the projection tremble ominously.   
  
I unobtrusively trudged through the snow over to the wall of the cliff, and looked back up. Portions of snow fell like an intermitant storm down on us, lightly enough that no one else even noticed.   
  
Aragorn, in an attempt, I can only assume, to contend with Gandalf's skill, began hollering Elvish southwards.   
  
More snow fell, more thickly than before.   
  
"Stop that!" I shouted at Aragorn. He ceased immediately, and whirled to glare at me. I was about to explain my reasoning when the avalanch came.   
  
My guess is that the combination of Aragorn's shouts and my idotic outburst was enough to trigger the fall. With a one word order from Boromir, we all threw ourselves against the wall of the cliff. The waterfall of snow swept me off my feet, disorienting me and reminding me that there was nothing stopping me from being swept a mere ten or twelve feet and off into thin, cold air.   
  
The thought wasn't optimistic. I curled myself into a tight ball, hoping that somehow the magic of moviemakers would protect me from falling like it protected the fellowship in the movie.   
  
Something seized my ankle. Out of some demented insticts, I kicked out, making contact with ...something or someone. The grip only tightened, and then the snow was swept from my face. My orientation returned immediately, and I nearly wretched at what I saw.   
  
I was lying on my stomach, and my head and shoulders were off the edge. Below me fell the snow, and farther down were treacherous pinnacles and gorges. I jerked back, flailing desperately away from the edge.   
  
As soon as I was away from the edge, I dug in the snow to help whoever had held my ankle, and probably saved my life.   
  
My chapped hands found something solid, and I heaved the person from the snow. A lamenting gasp hissed through my teeth as I withdrew a golden-blonde curly haired head from the snow.   
  
"Merry!" I exclaimed, yanking the rest of him up. He was unconscious. His whole forehead was covered in blood, and still more was issuing horrendously, as all head cuts do. I hastily ripped the hem off my shirt, and tried to clean up the mess.   
  
I was relieved to find he had only recieved a small cut above his brow, and wrapped a clean strip from my shirt around his head.   
  
By that time, most of the others had emerged from the snow.   
  
"Merry!" I heard Pippin cry, and he approached us, looking at his friend, full of concern. Merry roused himself, and looked around blearily.   
  
"Wha' happened?" Pippin asked.   
  
"I was in the snow, and then I grabbed something, but that something hit me in the head." he said, rubbing his brow.   
  
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling like a real loser. I had kicked the saver of my life. Merry looked startled at me for a second, then shied away.   
  
"We should have gone through the mines." Gimli said sulkily as he examined a dent in one of his many axes from a falling rock.   
  
"This is our path." Aragorn replied sternly, and, giving a cursory check of us all, continued, "We must perservere as far as we can. We will not let this mountain defeat us."   
  
Gimli gave a growl of disapproval, but said nothing else.   
  
We continued, as if nothing had happened. I trudged along slowly behind them, every muscle in my body aching. Things could have gone worse, I guess, but not by much.   
  
At nightfall, Boromir guessed we could reach the base of the mountain in two days. When I asked him what made him so sure, he glared at me, and 'forgot' to give me food from his bag until Aragorn reminded him.   
  
I watched the others settle down for the night. I pulled a thin blanket from my pack, and wrapped it tightly around myself, still shivering in the cold.   
  
Night was when it was the coldest. During the day, though the sun was veiled by steely clouds, we kept pace, and walking kept us somewhat warm. Now, it was dark, and I wasn't moving, and had time to think of my pathetic state and feel sorry for myself.   
  
.  
  
In the morning, Aragorn sent Legolas on ahead to see if there were any dangers on our path. He returned an hour later, looking weary, but not from exhaustion.   
  
"Alas, Boromir was correct in saying two days, but it will not be easy. The snow deepens, the path narrows, sharp, thick ice forms on the snow, and a storm approaches."   
  
The Bringer of Bad News sighed, and looked at Aragorn.   
  
"We could-" Gimli began hopefully, but Aragorn whirled around at him, and pushed a bit more forcefully than he probably intended.   
  
"Nay Master Gimli!" he snapped, "We will not go through your precious mines. We are near the end of this part of our journey, and I will not make these Hobbits turn around, and go back up the mountain so you can feel more at ease."   
  
Gimli scowled, and skulked away. Aragorn turned back to Legolas, "We shall continue on our way."   
  
Legolas nodded, and went to aid the Hobbits in packing. Feeling useless, as always, I shoved my blanket in the pack, and stood up.   
  
We set out again, and everything Legolas reported was true. The snow rose to my knees, and walking was a great difficulty in itself. The top of the snow was covered in a thin layer of ice, which dug into my legs like knives.   
  
At this time I hated the Elves more than usual. While we humans and hobbits stumbled and tore through the snow, Legolas wandered above us, his feet light on the icy snow.   
  
Elf envy: We all had it.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~ No reviews from chapter 6, so I don't have anything to reply to. :Weeps: 


	8. Down the Mountain

Chapter Eight  
  
By afternoon, I was all for going back up the mountains and through the goblin-infested mines. The ice had rubbed my legs raw, and the snow was now to my waist. My face was chapped from the strong bitter wind, and my fingers... Well, I couldn't feel them, so I can't describe how cold they were.   
  
The hobbits were behind us all, following in the broken snow. We stopped for a break, and I collapsed in the snow, panting from the effort of walking.   
  
"How fair ye, Hobbits?" Aragorn asked, in exceptionally old English.   
  
"The path is difficult, but we are fine." Frodo replied.   
  
"No we're not, Frodo!" Sam exclaimed. The blonde Hobbit turned aggressively to Aragorn, and began, "Begging your pardon, Strider, but my feet are frozen, we're all hungry, and Merry reckons he's sick."   
  
"Meriodoc?" Aragorn demanded. Merry reddened, and approached him.   
  
"Are you ill?"   
  
"No."   
  
Aragorn looked hard at Merry for a long time. Merry turned his eyes to the ground.   
  
"My head pounds, and I'm too tired to walk."   
  
"How did you get that?" Aragorn asked distractedly, gesturing to the cut. Merry gave a long look at me, and replied, "I tripped, and hit some ice."   
  
I wanted to go kiss that lying hobbit and dance around the snow, despite my weariness. He had lied to keep me from being shunned, and further distrusted from the others.   
  
"We must continue." Legolas said abrubtly.   
  
"First we need to help the little ones." Boromir countered, "I will carry Master Meriodoc on my back if I must."   
  
Aragorn nodded, "Come Frodo, I will carry you." The Ringbearer gave a look of relief, and obeyed. Legolas opted for carrying Sam.   
  
"I'll take the last." Gimli volunteered. Aragon smiled, "Nay, Master Gimli, you are not much taller than they yourselves. Eleanor will carry Pippin."   
  
Gimli shrugged, and Pippin, giving an unsure smile, drew near to me. "I'm no' tha' heaveh." he said. I grinned, then winced at the chappedness of my cheeks.   
  
I bent on one knee, and Pippin hopped on my back. I felt like I was giving a piggy-back ride to one of my nephews, because Pippin was the size of a child, and lighter than I expected.   
  
His hands went on my shoulders, and I caught his feet in the crook of either arm, and stood up. It seemed all of us had differed ideas of carrying the hobbits. Boromir was holding Merry like one would hold a sack of potatoes, and Aragorn was holding Frodo like he was a large infant. I looked to see how Legolas was faring with Sam, and nearly laughed.   
  
Sam, as you probably know, is no feather. Legolas was intending on carrying him the same way as I, but was still bent by Sam's weight. We finally continued on our way down the mountain.   
  
.  
  
At nightfall, the storm struck. By this time, the snow was to my chest, and my back was giving out from carrying Pippin all afternoon and evening.   
  
We struggled on. Snow flurried into my face and eyes, causing me to blink rapidly, and limiting my sight.   
  
"We cannot stop yet!" Aragorn yelled to us, and Legolas finished, "Just a bit farther is a small indention in the rock, and we can use it for shelter."   
  
By small indention, he meant small. It was about three feet into the rock, and about ten feet long. However, the snow was shallower, because of the angle the snow fell, and there was a wall of snow two feet high somewhat protecting us.   
  
I deposited Pippin with the other hobbits, and curled up in the corner.   
  
.  
  
I dreamed I was in castle ruins. I was wandering around looking for Bill the Pony, but I couldn't remember what he looked like. Finally, I came across a giant lump of clay, and decided that that must be Bill. Then the clay changed into Gandalf, who called me a fool of a Quame, and said it was my fault he was dead. As I was telling him that it couldn't have been me, I was shaken awake.   
  
"Wake up, Lady Sluggard." Aragorn hissed, prodding my shoulder. My eyelids felt too heavy, and my whole body ached.   
  
I tried to prop myself up, but my elbows shook from the strain, and I fell back.   
  
"What is keeping us?" Boromir demanded, glaring at me.   
  
"I'm sick." I admitted, feeling my neck, which was too warm for the cold circumstances. Aragorn narrowed his brow in consternation, and rose to his feet, looking down hard at me.   
  
Finally, he went to the other side of the incropping, and led Bill over. Without a word, he began unstrapping the packs from the pony's back, and putting them in a pile. When Bill had been lightened of everything, Aragorn threw his blanket over its back, and turned to me.   
  
"You will ride Bill for one day, but tomorrow you must walk. The pony can only take so much strain."   
  
I nodded miserably, and Aragorn helped me to my feet, and onto the pony. Then the ranger divided up the bags between himself, Boromir, and Gimli.   
  
"I can carry Merry and Pippin." Boromir volunteered.   
  
"I shall carry Frodo." Legolas said hastily.   
  
And we were off again. Much slower than usual. Bill meandered behind the others, and his back was very uncomfortable, but somehow I fell asleep again.  
  
When I woke, it was late afternoon. We were below timberline, and the Hobbits were able to walk without aid. We were now traveling through a forest of straggly and thin pine trees.  
  
It seemed whatever ailed Merry the other day had dimished, for he and Pippin were talking happily about the Shire, and I wondered how their spirits could be so light.   
  
"We should reach the bottom by nightfall." Aragorn informed us all as we took a short break. That was a good enough reason for us all to be in better moods.   
  
Even Gimli, whom I had seen naught but sulk for the whole mountain journey seemed cheered. Boromir handed around thawing pieces of deer meat for us all, I gnawed on mine for awhile, and tried to keep warm.   
  
"How much food have we left?" Aragorn asked suddenly. Boromir rifled through the bag, and his face fell.   
  
"Not enough for all of us to eat another meal." he replied.   
  
"Ay, 'tis fortune that we Elves need not eat nor drink, or we would have even less." Legolas stated.   
  
He had a good point, but I was still tempted to kick him  
  
.  
  
True to Aragorn's word, we reached the base of the mountain as darkness fell.   
  
"We must go south past Lorien in the morning." Aragorn declared.   
  
"The Elves?!" Gimli demanded, his sulkiness returning.   
  
"That is our path." Legolas retorted smugly.   
  
"First we scale a mountain instead of going under it, and now we seek the hospitality of the Elves, or lack there of!" the Dwarf raged.   
  
"Perhaps you should have considered things such as this before you volunteered to be a part of the Fellowship." Legolas suggested, his face nearly radiating with contempt-satisfaction. Gimli gave something like a growl, and began sharpening one of his axes, muttering darkly about Elves. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Laureline: Wow, I didn't realize I had it set on accepting only signed reviews, so that's changed. Thanks. Ah, logicalness is a wonderful thing... chibi-mairi: This chapter would ave gotten out earlier, but my Mac was being tempermental. 


	9. Lothlorien and a Lengthy Speech

Long chapter warning.   
  
Chapter Nine  
  
It seemed a bit Hollywood-like the way the climate changed so drastically from freezing cold to cool, but I wasn't complaining.   
  
Gimli was, however, but not about the weather. He was still mumbling, but had switched to Dwarvish, so I had no idea what he was saying.   
  
Bill had been reloaded of his things, and I was walking alongside the pony, holding his mane for balance. I was still quite sick, and I hoped I wouldn't give whatever I had to the others. Well... If Boromir fell ill, I might not feel remorse.   
  
I grinned to myself, and stumbled along behind the others.   
  
.  
  
Two days of traveling later, with myself still sick, we reached a familiar wood. At least, familiar to me. I also noted a look a relief grow on Aragorn's face, and wonder on Legolas's.   
  
"They say an Elf-Witch lives in these woods." Gimli hissed to the Hobbits. I watched Frodo closely, and saw him jerk suddenly, and look around as if he heard something, and wasn't sure if anyone else had.   
  
Without as much as a warning, her voice entered my head. I was so startled I tripped on a root, and had to yank Bill's mane for balance, earning a glare from Sam.   
  
It was what she said more than actually hearing her that disturbed me.   
  
"They are yet waiting for you, and wait will they until the ends of time, whether you save them or not. Do not idle here."   
  
I had no idea what on earth Galadriel meant, but it scared me. I had a mission? What else could I do except 'help' the Fellowship destroy the Ring?  
  
Lost in thought, it took me until the arrow point was touching my shoulder to realize we were ambushed.   
  
"What business have you in the Golden Wood?" demanded an Elf I recognized as Haldir.   
  
"Haldir, it is me!" Aragorn exclaimed. Haldir's gaze shifted from Gimli to the ranger, and his hard expression softened, and he nodded to Aragorn, "Elessar, it has been long since you have come to our wood. Why come you now with such strange a company?"   
  
"The tale is long, and secret, for the most part, but will you accept our company for a night?" Aragorn replied.   
  
Haldir said nothing, but began speaking to a few other Elves in his own tongue. Finally, he answered, "I will take you to the Lady's tree, and there she will decide what is best."   
  
We were blindfolded, to Legolas's dismay, and Gimli's indignation, and led through the woods. For some reason I didn't think I'd ever be able to explain, I felt drawn forward, like I was being sucked in, and, although in blindness, I didn't trip once.   
  
When the clothe was untied from our heads, we were in the heart of Lorien, with the glimmering blue-white lights, and staircases wrapping around the treetrunks. Bill was led away to a stable by a various Elf, and I swayed on the spot, trying to pretend there was more strength in my legs than actuallity.   
  
"Eleanor, are you well?" Pippin asked, advancing towards me. I forced a smile, and shook my head.   
  
"Our 'companion' is ill." Boromir explained, his voice full of sarcasm as he said companion.   
  
"I can take her to the healing talan." volunteered a handsome blonde Elf to Haldir's left.   
  
"First the Lady must see them, then you may." Haldir said. The Elf with sympathy for me let me use him for support as we climbed the steps to one of the grandest of the flets.   
  
There stood Galadriel and Celeborn, the latter dazed, but both looking very luminescent. It was silent for a long time.   
  
"Nine there were that set out from Rivendell, and nine there remain, but why has Gandalf been replaced?" Celeborn asked in monotone.   
  
"Replaced?" Boromir barked a laugh, "Nay, we found her, and had no choice but to take her with us."   
  
"And know you what happened to Gandalf?" Galadriel inquired sadly, gazing at Frodo. Frodo shook his head, "Is he alright?"   
  
Galadriel was silent, and closed her eyes for a time, shaking her head.   
  
"Nay." she began slowly, "He has fallen into shadow, and there shall the grey pilgrim remain."   
  
"How?!" Sam burst out, and then reddened.   
  
"In the mines of the last Morian Dwarves he fell, for in those mountains lives a balrog. One of the last of its race, but living still. They battled, and Gandalf is lost to us forever." There was a strange look on her face. Immense sadness, but also...  
  
... Well, if I knew better, I would say it looked like she was telling a grand joke, and pleased it had worked.   
  
"How do you know these things?" Gimli demanded, but not in his usually hard tone. Galadriel didn't look at him at all. Instead, her gaze was focused on me, and I was feeling quite uncomfortable.   
  
"There are many ways." she said mysteriously, and then continued, "Do not let your hearts be troubled, tonight you will sleep well."   
  
I looked at the Hobbits, who looked like they were going to cry from the news, to Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir, who were just looking in a lost sort of way at each other. Gimli was off to himself, gazing at Galadriel, and mumbling Dwarvish, with a pained look on his face.   
  
Well, I thought optimistically, at least I hadn't screwed up the plot so far. Gandalf fell, and now he would have the transformation to Mithrandir. I smiled contentedly to myself, and wondered if it was possible to change the plot at all. After all, they hadn't been the same, but they had the same outcome as from the story.   
  
"Why do you smile, you heartless spy?" Boromir suddenly snapped. My face fell, and I gave a sigh, "I thought we'd gotten past this spy suspicion."   
  
"You smile at Gandalf's death as if-" Legolas began, but trailed off, his whole exterior suddenly wrathful. "-as if you contrived it."   
  
"What?!" I nearly screeched. Frodo was now looking at me in terror, and Merry and Sam had frightened looks on their faces.   
  
"Now is not the time to discuss such things." Aragorn hissed, gesturing with his eyes to Galadriel and Celeborn, who were whispering to each other. Galadriel turned toward us, and began, "I may assure you the incident was not planned by any forces other than those in Udun."   
  
Boromir opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped.   
  
"She needs help." suggested my support-Elf.   
  
"Take her to the healing talan, but keep her under close guard." Boromir warned.  
  
The Elf helped me to the said talan, talking all the way. His name was Galawe, and he had been born in the Ndaeldeldhrim, the Kingdom of Thranduil. He loved to sing songs from his homeland, but in Lorien they weren't as accepted. He complained that the Lorien Elves sung only sad, mournful songs, while the Sindarin Elves sang about the sun, and valleys to bright tunes, that would never fail to make the listener smile.   
  
We reached the talan as he was telling me about Arienfea, according to him, the most beautiful Elf-maid in all of Arda. He was courting her, but she was very shy, making the task more difficult.   
  
An Elf woman approached us holding a basin of water. She gave one look at me and ordered me to lay on one of the beds and wait for her to come to me.   
  
The talan was empty save me, the woman, and Galawe, who was talking to the woman in hushed tones.   
  
As I was lying on the comfortable bed, it struck me how ironic it was to be in the equivalent of a hospital in a land where the inhabitants couldn't get sick.   
  
I mentioned this to the woman when she approached me, and she didn't catch the humor, only replied tactfully that being an Elf didn't stop bones from breaking and cuts from bleeding.   
  
She gave me some kind of medicine, and I fell asleep soon afterwards.   
  
.  
  
I awoke, it was dark out, and I was alone. I felt completely restored to my good health, and very hungry.   
  
I sat up in bed, and saw that I was now in an airy night gown with lots of designs and patterns in it. It was pretty, but not very practical.   
  
Swinging my legs out of bed, I stood up, and wondered where everyone else was. Not that I expected them to see me at my sick bed. I wandered to the edge of the talan, looked down, and regretted it.   
  
I was alot higher up than I thought, and vertigo struck me hard for a long while. I stood in the middle of the flet, thinking of what to do next. I looked around for my clothes. They were nowhere to be found.   
  
Deciding I didn't care if I was seen - if you could call the voluminous attire- indecently dressed, I headed down the path over insanely thick tree limbs.   
  
Out of nowhere, it seemed, Galawe appeared, saw me, averted his eyes, and said, "Lady, you need to be back in bed."   
  
"I'm hungry, and not tired at all." I protested, feeling like a kid. Galawe shrugged, and, grabbing my arm forcefully, guided me back to the healing talan.   
  
"Where is Luinmir?" Galawe asked, craning his head around. It was my turn to shrug, and Galawe darted off in search of her.   
  
He returned shortly, proudly leading Luinmir, the Elf-doctor, toward me. Luinmir looked very disgruntled, and snapped at Galawe, "Am I not allowed a moment of meditation?"   
  
Galawe didn't answer, but shot me a sympathetic look, and left.   
  
"So," I began innocently, "where are my clothes?"   
  
"Gone." Luinmir replied crisply.   
  
"Gone..." I trailed off.   
  
"They weren't fit for wearing. Coarse, blue leggins? A shirt with sleeves only reaching the elbows?"   
  
I inwardly admitted my shirt was probably ready to be tossed, seeming that it was missing two inches on the hem from where I had helped Merry, and the pants had been unargueably dirty and ripped. I sighed in resignation, and asked what I was expected to wear in public.   
  
"The Lady has had three dresses made for you, along with a cloak, and proper shoes."   
  
"I'm supposed to wear a dress on the journey?" I demanded incredulously.   
  
"Well, what else is there?" Luinmir countered.   
  
"Pants?"   
  
"For a lady, what else is there?" she persisted. I gave up for the time being, and requested to see the clothes. Luinmir shuffled around on a table, and lifted the first dress for me to see. It was a light blue, with darker blue and silver on the hems.   
  
"I'm expected to go a-questing in that?" Luinmir gave a hopeless sort of sigh, and shook her head, yanking out one of the other dresses. It was a forest green with brown and grey accents, and much more practical for the road. The third dress I didn't bother asking to see, but had the shoes brought over.   
  
There were two pairs. One pair was slippers with beads and silver threads sewn on them. The other pair was undoubtably for travelling in. They were like high-topped tennis shoes, only made of soft leather instead of canvas.   
  
"Do you need anything?" Luinmir asked. Food was my reply, and she gave me some sort of soup which reminded me of potatoes and carrots.   
  
Then she left, off to meditate, no doubt. I stared off into space for awhile, then stood up to look at the cloak and the other dress.   
  
The cloak was like the ones I was sure the Fellowship would soon be getting, except it looked a bit more inexplicably feminine. The last dress, however, made the blue one look simple and plain.   
  
It was dark red, with- I regret the only word to describe the sleeves is not really a word, but is the only word I find appropriate-floofy white sleeves, hemmed in gold and black. "For only the most formal occasions."   
  
I jumped, and whirled around, looking at Galadriel like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car.   
  
"It's-" I stammered, "it's really-wow. I don't think I deserve it." Galadriel smiled.   
  
"Something tells me it will come to use near the end of your journey. The blue one is for less formal, and the green is, I'm sure, self-explanitory."   
  
I grinned, and laid the dress down on top of the others.   
  
"But I did not come here to discuss your wardrobe." Galadriel began. Feeling a lecture was coming, I sat down on my bed, and looked up at her expectantly.   
  
"In the First Age, Feanor son of Finwe created the Palantiri. The Seven Seeing Stones, and few of my race still know of them. He created them for communication from distant lands, and-"   
  
"I know what they are." I blurted, "I mean, I know what they do." Galadriel looked suprised, but not annoyed.   
  
"Then you know that they were lost save a few."   
  
"Orthanc and Minas Tirith." I replied, nodding. Galadriel jerked in an unElven-like way, but then continued, "Elessar's mission is to save the last people of Gondor. In a way every member of the fellowship has a different task, which perhaps even they do not know yet. Yours concerns the Palantiri."   
  
"Excuse me?" I croaked, trying to figure out what she was trying to tell me.   
  
"In your eyes, I see power and strength to control the Palantiri, and bend them to your will. You are one of the few people left in all of Middle Earth with such an ability."   
  
"I'm not even from Middle Earth!" I protested without thinking.   
  
Galadriel was silent long enough for me to realize my error, and feel like an idiot. Then she said, "Since I see your regret for those words, I will ignore them, and continue on. Perhaps you have felt something, like the presence of something you couldn't understand as you entered my realm."   
  
I remembered that afternoon, and gave a nod.   
  
"I possess one of the seven stones. It was found in Amun Sul by Elros, brother of Elrond. He entrusted it to me, for he knew I could endure it."   
  
"So, where were the others?" I inquired, getting curious.   
  
"The stones were passed from Isildur to Elendil and his two sons. Elendil set three in Emyn Beraid, Amun Sul, and Annuminas. His sons placed theirs in Minas Ithil, Orthanc, Osgiliath, and Minas Anor, now called Minas Tirith."   
  
"Can you write this down for me?" I asked, my head already drowning in information. Galadriel smiled, and nodded, "Later. For now I just wanted to inform you of your quest."   
  
"Where are the others of the fellowship?" I changed the subject, wanting to get back to a topic that seemed more real.   
  
"You shall see them all before you go to bed, I daresay."   
  
Without another word, she glided out of the room.   
  
.  
  
One by one, each member of the Fellowship entered the healing talan, to be examined by Luinmir, and make sure they were healthy.   
  
Merry's cut was treated, Pippin, who had aquired a cough, was given some strongly sweet smelling medicine. A cut on Sam's foot was cleaned, and a tonic was given to Frodo for some reason. He looked fine to me. Gimli refused any help or treatment, declaring himself as healthy as an ox.   
  
Aragorn and Boromir refused any help, whether they needed it or not. All this while I lay in bed, covers to my chin, and pretended to be asleep, so I wouldn't be bothered.   
  
"Is Eleanor coming to the feast?" I heard Pippin ask before he left.   
  
"No," I heard Luinmir answer, "she is still healing, and can not yet have such food."   
  
My stomach growled softly, and I sent angry thoughts to Luinmir.   
  
When at last everyone was gone, I rolled on my back, and looked up at the ceiling. I studied the patterns for some time until I dozed off, my mind in a confused and jumbled mass of facts and feelings. ~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Archanae: Ha, you caught me. Fair ye.... I thought it sounded strange. Hmmm, I read back at your mention of her hands being bound, and indeed, they were...whoops. In my defense of the whole Hobbit being carried by girl vs. dwarf: I never imagined Hobbits weighing that much, and maybe that's just my fault, but...yeah. Anyways, it's so much fun making Legolas the subject of envy and annoyance, because in most fanfictions, it's always "The handsome blonde archer saved the rest of the fellowship from certain doom by seeing the danger from afar with his bright blue eyes." Grr. I hate that kind of writing, don't you?   
  
Author's Note: Ok, the info on the palantiri: Some of it's true, but some of it I just completely made up to work with my plot. Usually I look down on authors who change important things in the main story for it to work with their own fanfic, and I will understand if you don't approve of my writing about that section. 


	10. Farewell to Lorien

Chapter Ten  
  
In the morning, Luinmir announced me healthy, and to leave as soon it was best for me. While she was making some sort of breakfast for me, I changed into the travelling dress.   
  
It was harder to get into than I thought. There were all sorts of ties and hooks in the most obscure places, but the fabric was soft, and had a strange quality of being thick, but light and thin at the same time.   
  
I was lacing my new shoes up as Luinmir reappeared, bearing a bowl of some steaming thin liquid. I finished it off quickly, and, thanking Luinmir for her hospitality, grabbed my gowns, cloak, and shoes, and went off in search of the fellowship. Galadriel had also supplied me with a new pack in which to keep the clothes, and I rolled up the dresses and shoved them in the bag as I walked.   
  
"El!" someone called. I turned to see Galawe approaching from another limb. He led me down the ground, and showed me where the eight had slept. Before he left, I caugh this sleeve, and asked, "Why did you call me El?" He grinned, "Legolas told me that was your nickname. We talked for a long time last night, and that came up."   
  
"Ah." I replied, and let him go on his way.   
  
"Excuse me, Lady." began a familiar voice from behind me. I turned around, and forced a smile at Boromir. He looked startled to see me, but then recovered, and demanded, "Pardon, I didn't recognize you. What are you doing around here?"   
  
"Just making sure you hadn't left without me." I shot sarcastically.   
  
"If only." I heard Boromir mutter, and he turned away. I glowered after him, and then sighed. So much for my hopes of the cliche that seemed to support all other cases except mine. For a brief time, I had the insane thought that if I changed into a dress, all feminine-like, and got cleaned up, I'd be treated with more respect.   
  
Screw that notion.   
  
"Eleanor!" came my third caller the morning. Pippin stopped, glanced curiously at my dress, then looked back up to my face, and grinned, saying, "You missed the feast last night."   
  
"Luinmir held me captive." I replied, shrugging.   
  
"It was a marvelous feast." Merry contributed, joining our number.   
  
"With bread, and ale, and meats, and wine, and loveleh mushrooms." Pippin sighed. Merry turned to Pippin with a suspicious look.   
  
"I didn't see any mushrooms, Pip."   
  
Pippin's dreamy face snapped back to reality, and he adopted a guilty look, which looked right at home on his face.   
  
"Well, there weren't tha' many. And- and, if I showed them to you, you would show them to Sam and Frodo, and then we'd have had to share them." Pippin said in his defense.   
  
I smiled at the simple-mindedness of hobbits, and walked away as they continued bickering.   
  
.  
  
The day was suprisingly uneventful. You would think that in Lothlorien, there'd be something to do.   
  
Well, there was. Walk around slowly, and look mysterious and ethereal. The Elves did that, at least. After I dropped off my new bag with the others, I wandered about; half-expecting Galadriel to pop out of somewhere, scare the crap out of me, and then give me the information about the Palantiri.   
  
She didn't, however, and it wasn't until afternoon when an Elf woman approached me with an Elven-looking brush. I cowered at the sight, but she said that she had instructions from the Lady herself to tame my hair, and put it up and out of the way for the journey.   
  
It made sense, but sense didn't make it hurt any less. I had had a bath that morning, but hadn't even attempted my hair, because frankly, the tangles and knots scared me to no end.   
  
The whole process took about half an hour. When she was done, I felt it, and decided it must look something Legolas's style. Three tight braids; two above the ear, and the top part of my hair pulled into an incredibly tight braid. Then the woman turned to leave, but not before telling me to meet the others at the forest's edge.   
  
My clueless face must have given her some idea of my knowledge concerning Lorien, and she led me to the said location.   
  
There stood the eight, talking with each other, or the Elves, in low tones.   
  
Haldir was there, as was Galawe, who was talking happily with Legolas. When the others noted my presence, Haldir began, "You have been supplied with three boats, loaded with all your bags, that are waiting on the Silverlode. Follow me, and I shall lead you there."   
  
I approached Galawe, and thanked him for helping me. He nodded, smiling, and wished me a safe journey. I told him I hoped he won the heart of Arienfea. He reddened, I hugged him, and we parted.   
  
Sam was very subdued. Since our path took us on the river, Bill was to be left in Lorien until our quest was over. I watched Frodo and Merry try to cheer him up by saying the pony would be happy with the Elves, but nothing helped.   
  
We travelled for a good part of the afternoon, and I grew very hungry. Finally, we heard water, and then the Silverlode came into view.   
  
In the middle of the river was Galadriel's swan-boat, where she, Celeborn, and two other Elves were standing.   
  
The two Elves rowed to shore, and Galadriel disembarked with Celeborn behind, and showed us our boats. Aragorn thanked her profusely, and then we all sat down on the banks to enjoy a belated lunch.   
  
I ate off to the side, and watched Aragorn, Legolas, Galadriel, and Celeborn speak in Elvish. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin sat discussing the Shire, and Boromir and Gimli were arguing lightly over the road.   
  
When we finished, Galadriel stood, and beckoned us to follow suit. One of the Elf attendants handed her a large basket, and she smiled gently.   
  
"All of you shall recieve cloaks woven by myself and my ladies. They can protect you from cold and heat, but they are not armor, and can not stop a blade or shaft." So saying, she withdrew from the immense basket a bundle of wrapped fabric, and handed the cloaks to all but me; I was already wearing the one she had given me.   
  
Celeborn handed Galadriel one of two long wrapped objects, which she unfolded, revealing a sheath, and handed it to Aragorn. Explaining the power it possessed, she also handed him a brooch with a large green stone on it. Aragorn exchanged a few words to her in Elvish, and bowed.   
  
To Boromir she gave a gold belt, and Merry and Pippin each recieved a belt of silver with gold clasps. Sam was given a box I recognized as the container of dirt from the book. She advanced to Frodo, and gave him the phial of Earendil, instructing him of its uses and origin.   
  
When Gimli requested a hair off her head, she smiled, and gave him three. She handed Legolas a delicate, but strong bow, and a quiver of arrows. Finally, she reached me. From the basket she revealed a thin leather book, written in the Elven script.   
  
"Here is all my knowledge, and those I converse with, concerning the Palantiri." she said, handing it to me. I leafed through it, looking at the maps, and pages of foreign symbols. I didn't tell her I couldn't read her language.   
  
Celeborn handed her the other thin bundle, which showed itself as another sheath, but also containing a sword.   
  
Galadriel pulled the sword out of the former, letting the sun glint off the shining steel   
  
"This is Celebril," she began. I made a mental note to remember the name of the sword, supposing it would ever be needed. She continued, "it was forged in the heart of Beleriand, in the First Age, and it has seen many battles."   
  
I inwardly hoped it wouldn't see anymore. At least as long as I had it. I thanked her, and then she led us to the boats.   
  
She displayed the lembas, and showed us the supplies in each of the boats. Finally, wishing our journey successful, we all clambored into the boats.   
  
Boromir, myself, and Merry were in the first, while Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam were in the second. Legolas, Pippin, and Gimli were in the last.   
  
Celeborn gave us brief directions on where to head, and then we paddled out to the middle of the river, and headed away from Lorien. 


	11. The Breaking of the Fellowship

Chapter Eleven  
  
And down the Great River we paddled, until night fell. Then we dragged our boats ashore, and made camp.   
  
In the bags of supplies included meats, dried fruits, blankets, and rope. I ate an apple, snagged a blanket, and curled up a ways off with the book Galadriel gave me. I puzzled over the maps, finally figuring out where Minas Tirith was. I traced the mountains with my finger, outlining the road it would take.   
  
I sighed, wishing I could understand Elven. I fell on my side, watching the members of the fellowship whisper to one another, and one by one drop off into sleep. Legolas remained sitting up straight, face turned toward the moon, his lips moving wordlessly as though silently reciting a sonnet or poem.   
  
Turning my gaze toward Aragorn and Boromir, both sleeping fitfully, and then to the Hobbits, all huddled together, in contented sleep, together.   
  
I felt a lump rise in my throat. I wanted a friend. Galawe was the closest I had had so far, but now he was gone, and I would probably never see him again. I watched Gimli breath slowly, and roll on his side, his back to me.   
  
I clutched the book tighter, deep in thought. I wasn't tired at all. I had had enough rest in Lorien to last me a good while. Gathering up courage, I sat up, and walked softly over to where Legolas was sitting.   
  
"Hey." I whispered. Legolas's eyes narrowed, and he nodded in acknowledgment.   
  
"I, um, Galadriel gave me this book," I stumbled over the words, trying desperately to say the right thing, "but the thing is, I can't read it." I showed him the book, and he took it from my hands, reading the cover slowly.   
  
"It is written in your tongue. I could read it to you, and you would understand, but you cannot read it yourself." he said finally, flipping through the pages.   
  
"Could you teach me to read it?" I asked cautiously. Legolas was silent for awhile; so long, in fact, that I wondered if he hadn't heard me. After a few moments, however, he answered, "Our writing is very different from yours, and more complicated. It could not take a single night."   
  
"I didn't expect it to." I said hurriedly, "But could you at least teach me the basics?"   
  
"I see you have made up your mind to learn this, whether I am obliging or not." Legolas replied sharply.   
  
"Well if your going snap about it..." I began angrily, yanking the book from his hands. His grip tightened, and I didn't try further to wrench it from his hands. He looked at the cover a bit longer, and then asked, "Why do you concern yourself with legend?"   
  
"It's not legend!" I snapped, forgetting the others were sleeping. Aragorn jerked, but didn't wake. Legolas shrugged, and exhaled, "I can teach you, but not tonight. Something approaches I feel will be difficult, and you require rest."   
  
"How do you know?" I asked, distracted. The Elf's eyes adopted a faraway look.   
  
"The wind, the earth, and the trees do not lie." he answered mysteriously. I gave up on him for the time being, he handed me back my book, and I returned to my blanket, falling into a shallow sleep.   
  
.  
  
In the morning, we continued on. The next few days were uneventful, except the third day, when we passed the Argonaths. They were truly a wonder in themselves, and nothing on Earth could ever be compared to them.   
  
I was so mesmerized I forgot to paddle with my oar, resulting in a scoff from Boromir. When we passed through them, and into the lake pouring into Rauros Falls, we banked the boats for the night, even though it was early afternoon.   
  
"We shall leave the boats and continue on foot." Aragorn declared, unpacking things from his boat.   
  
"To where?" Gimli asked, drawing out his pipe.   
  
"The Emyn Muil." the ranger replied. Knowing Gimli was going to go into his rant about the razor sharp rocks and such, I strayed aside, and approached Legolas, for more help deciphering my book.   
  
The past two nights had been frustrating and tiresome, but I was finally beginning to understand the system, even if I couldn't remember the symbols. Roughly five minutes after Legolas began one of his lectures on the Elven tongue, I realized my mistake.   
  
"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked casually. Sam jerked, and looked around wildly. My heart sank as I saw his abandoned pack, and Boromir's shield leaning against a tree, along with all his other things.   
  
"Find the Ringbearer!" Aragorn cried, unsheathing his sword. The others were up in a second, weapons up, waiting for instruction.   
  
Aragorn sent Merry, Pippin, and I to follow the bank, Gimli to head north, and Legolas to search east, saying that he himself would head for Amon Hen. I drew Celebril, and led Merry and Pippin along our designated path.   
  
However, it was Merry's suggestion that we stray into the forest, which I agreed to, knowing already we were looking in the wrong place.   
  
We came across ruins of some ancient settlement, and called vainly for Frodo.   
  
"Wha' is tha'?" Pippin demanded worriedly. We were silent, and then I heard it. Pounding feet, and the sound of a cracking whip.   
  
"Hide!" I hissed, directing them down a hill, and among the roots of a fallen tree. I myself ran up to the top of one of the crumbled towers, and looked around, trying to find from where the Uruk Hai were coming. I wasn't high enough to see anything but leaves and branches, though, so I returned to the leaf-covered ground, wondering where to go.   
  
My heart began beating harder as I heard Merry and Pippin whispering not-so-quietly, "Hide with us! Come on!"   
  
I ran as fast as I could downhill, just in time to see Pippin dart from under the tree, and call to a score of orcs not fifty feet away. Merry joined him, and both yelled and hollered.   
  
Catching up to them, I grabbed each one's wrist, and pulled them as fast as I could downhill.   
  
Merry twisted his arm from my grasp, and ran faster than I did down to the bottom, where spanned a bridge over a shallow trench.   
  
Pippin and I stopped, gasping for breath on the bridge, and I looked back up the hill. Orcs were pouring down it like ants. Turning to look around, I saw more Uruks running from the opposite direction.   
  
"Ready to fight?" I asked, trying to hide my pure terror. Merry and Pippin nodded, wielding their short blades.   
  
"We must get off the bridge." Pippin advised. We did so, and rushed out into the clearing, back to back, swords raised.   
  
The orcs were on us like a wave. I whirled my sword around clumsily, yet effectively, wounding a few. I plunged Celebril into one orc, and yanked it out, slicing through the stomach of another.   
  
Energy I didn't know I had was issuing from me like a fountain, and my blade flashed faster than I thought humanly possible. A particularly large orc was charging at me, but was suddenly headless. He sank to the ground, and behind him stood Boromir, looking satisfied.   
  
And as we fought there, Merry, Pippin, Boromir, and I, I felt that no matter how this ended, I had gained their trust. It was here I was reminded we were fighting the same enemy, for the same cause.   
  
Of course, I didn't have time to think deeper than that. Not when orcs were still spilling from everywhere, bent on killing us.   
  
I swung my sword wildly, wounding two more. In front of me was Merry and Pippin, working together to bring down one orc at a time.   
  
"Hold them at bay!" Boromir shouted abrubtly. I moved near him, and fought of the orcs aiming for Boromir, and the latter gave a few strong blasts from his horn.   
  
The orcs stopped in their tracks, looking almost fearfully at Boromir, who blew into it one more time before raising his sword again. I waited for Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to come to our aid, but they didn't. When the Uruks realized this, they laughed in grating tones, and charged again.   
  
I moved closer to Merry and Pippin, seeing that they looked exhausted. I realized I was too, and the sword felt heavy in my hands.   
  
And then Lurtz made his entrance. I saw him raise his crossbow. I abandoned my post by the hobbits, and hastened to Boromir's side, in order to warn him.   
  
I heard the zinging of an arrow, and a pain of which I had never known seered through my body. The arrow's penetration knocked me off my feet, and I clutched at the thick shaft embedded into my right shoulder.   
  
Merry and Pippin stopped their fighting, and looked in terror at me. Tears stinging my eyes and half-blinding me, I glanced up at Boromir, who's eyes were cast down at me in shock.   
  
Merry and Pippin attacked more ferociously than before, and Boromir yelled an undistiguishable war-cry, and swung his sword harder and faster.   
  
Then another arrow came. It found its mark this time in Boromir's chest. Rage coursed through me almost as fiercly as the pain, and I fought to stand up again. I tried to lift my sword, but the effort strained the muscles in my pierced shoulder, and I fell on my knees in agony.   
  
The last arrow again landed in Boromir. He fought limply, and finally buckled to the ground. I watched Merry and Pippin hurl themselves at the orcs, but they were soon overcome, and were grasped by the orcs.   
  
I felt as though I'd failed them as I watched them being carried off to unimaginable fear, torment, and pain. It was as if I was being drained of all things I needed; I could only watch, and feel the blood flow steadily from my wound. The orcs ignored us, and ran on, except Lurtz. There he stood, the coward, five feet from where Boromir knelt, and strung his crossbow.   
  
Feeling one last burst of strength, I lunged to my feet, and heaved my sword up on high. Pain screamed through my arm, but in my anger I ignored it. I ran at Lurtz, and drove Celebril into his side.   
  
He staggered, and I pulled the sword from him, falling back down for a third time. With one hand clutching his side, and the other pulling out a dagger, he ran at me. I tumbled back, waiting for the blow, but it didn't come. Boromir had, with his last strength, I assume, swung his sword, and decapitated Lurtz.   
  
I supressed a cry, and dragged myself over to Boromir, where he lay on his back, breathing heavily.   
  
"Will you-" I began, gasping for breath, and Boromir choked, and turned his head to look at me.   
  
"Forgive me, Eleanor," he began shakily, "I have not given you the respect you deserve."   
  
"Don't say things like that!" I said sharply. Boromir forced a smile, his eyes were glazing over, and I knew I was losing him.   
  
"If ever I could have-" he paused, inhaling raggedly, "-have married any woman, Eleanor, it would have been you."   
  
My heart nearly stopped there, and if it hadn't broke at the sight of Merry and Pippin being taken, my heart would have surely shattered now.   
  
I wished I had something meaningful to say, but remained silent. Footsteps approached, and Aragorn dropped down beside me. Boromir turned his head to him, and whispered, "Treat Eleanor with respect, for she has taken and arrow meant for me, and proven her quality many times."   
  
Aragorn looked startled at me, but returned his gaze to Boromir. They exchanged words which were heart-wrenching and sad, and still I cannot utter them. I grasped Boromir's hand tightly, and kissed it. He smiled, drawing in a shuddering breath, and raised his dying eyes to the pale blue sky.   
  
He was gone. . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
.  
  
Laurelin: Merry IS a cutie. However, I think I would pick Pippin over him solely for the accent. Don't you love it when he sings in the Rotk? It makes m want to go hug him. :sigh: but, no, we can't have nice things, can we? You call him a needle cushion? Ha, I call him the human porcupine. To each his/her own.   
  
.  
  
devonshire tea: Heh. Nifty name. Sorry I didn't answer you on ch 10, but I just updated before I looked at my reviews. Ah well, I hope this chapter came soon enough. 


	12. Travelling

Chapter Twelve  
  
The pain and sorrow within me seethed and ate away at my insides like a monstrous plague. I felt hollow; empty, and the agony coursing from my wound only made matters worse.   
  
I clung to his still-warm hand, praying that everything that had happened today was just a nightmare, but I knew the truth. A great weight fell on me as I wondered if I could have stopped Boromir's death. The guilt crept into my mind like a hidden beast, but the pain seemed to be fading...  
  
Looking up a Aragorn, my vision began to blur. With my last bit of strength I rolled onto my back, and held the shaft of the arrow in my shoulder weakly with one hand. It was harder to breath, and then my vision and consciousness were robbed of me, sending me into a dark world of torment and grief.   
  
.  
  
My left hand was empty. I clenched it, trying to remember what I had been holding that was so important, and then it all came back to me. I choked a sob, and willed myself to sit up.   
  
"El!" Aragorn called, pushing me forcefully back down. It was twilight, and Legolas and Gimli were nowhere to be seen.   
  
"Where is Boromir?" I demanded, looking desperately around. Aragorn gently told me that Boromir's body had been placed in one of the boats, and sent down the falls of Rauros. "And Frodo and Sam?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Aragorn told me, and then said, "I have sent Legolas and Gimli on to track the Uruk Hai, while I stayed behind and tended to you."   
  
His gaze glanced down, and I followed them to a thick, bloody arrow that looked horribly familiar.   
  
"Why did I faint?"   
  
Aragorn gave a small smile, "You lost much blood, but your unconsciousness masked the pain you would have otherwise endured had you been awake as I withdrew the arrow."   
  
I exhaled heavily, and looked at my shoulder. Brown blood stained my dress in frighteningly large amounts, and the shoulder of the dress had been cut away so a banadage could be applied.   
  
"How will we catch up with the others?"   
  
"I am a ranger, and there are many ways." was his answer, "Now sleep, in the morning we must continue, even if I must carry you."   
  
I lifted my face to the sky, looking at the foreign stars. My heart ached over everything that had happened, and an emotion I had not had much time to consider: homesickness.   
  
I felt so detached from my homeland my heart throbbed with loneliness. I thought of my father, and my sister. I wonderd how much time had passed, and if they thought I was dead. I fell into a troubled sleep, only waking when Aragorn nudged me not-so-gently at the crack of dawn.   
  
.  
  
Aragorn, though he offered, refused to carry me, saying that to do so would slow us down, and that I hadn't been shot in the leg.   
  
I countered with the argument that I would slow us down no matter what, but his mind was made up.   
  
He sprinted along, while I forced myself into a half-jog, half-lurching run. Aragorn agreed to carry the bags we were left with, but I still felt as though I was carrying a great weight that bore down on me; whispering for me to give up, and collapse into an exhausted heap.   
  
That day was sheer torture. As we ran through the forest and later across country, with no breaks, my heart ached more for the loss of Boromir, and it felt as though with every step I was losing hope in everything.   
  
By nightfall, Aragorn finally halted, and touched his ear to the ground. He was silent for a long time, while my legs buckled, and I swallowed air as fast as I could empty my lungs. I was so tired it was a wonder I didn't keel over and die from fatigue.   
  
Aragorn lifted his head, and offered me some of the food Celeborn had supplied us with. I munched hungrily on the dried beef, and nearly emptied my vessel of water. The ranger watched me closely- I felt his eyes on me as I ate, still panting, and regaining my strength.   
  
"Forgive me, El," Aragorn started, "I should not have expected you to run all day with no rest, and in such a state. The error was mine, and shall not be repeated."   
  
I smiled gratefully at him, but didn't speak. When he had asked forgiveness, I was transported to the day before, when Boromir had done the same. A lump grew in my throat. I bit my lip, and fell on my back, gazing at the cloud-choked sky. Every once in awhile, the clouds would thin, and the moon would shine feebly from behind them until a thicker cloud would pass over it.   
  
The moon had light, but could not shine, and help those in the dark. I knew the outcomes of the story, but no one would listen to me. Feeling oddly proud of my prophetic-sounding metaphor, I continued on in my thinking, trying to find other connections. It cheered me to think that when the clouds dispersed, the moon could gleam down to the earth freely, and help all those who needed light.   
  
I smiled tiredly. All I had to do was wait for the clouds to roll away. With this thought in mind, I fell asleep.   
  
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I woke up early to find Aragorn listening to the ground, his eyes closed in thought. While I waited patiently for him to sit up, I rubbed my right shoulder, trying to ease the pain.   
  
When Aragorn finished his listening, he looked solemnly at me for a time. I grew uncomfortable, and looked around the landscape. Finally, he spoke, but when he did, I wished he hadn't.   
  
"I have lost sound of the Uruk Hai's footfalls. They are far, far away, and our hope lies with Legolas and Gimli. El, forgive my next words, but your wound is keeping us from the Halflings."   
  
I remained silent, feeling yet another weight fall upon me. Guilt crept further into my mind as I thought of Merry and Pippin with the horde of orcs. "El," Aragorn began slowly, "you cannot come with me."   
  
My heart pounded faster, and now fear was added to the mix of emotions within me.   
  
"I am sorry, but yesterday I had hoped to cover double the land, but I couldn't because of you. Do not think I don't regret it, El, because I know I will for the rest of my life if I never see you again. You must see it that your chances of survival alone are so much greater that Merry and Pippin's."   
  
I nodded, trying to hold back the tears I knew were inevitable. Wordlessly, Aragorn began trading things from one bag to another, and then handed me my pack.   
  
"There is enough food there to last you a month or so. If you head straight west, you will come to Edoras, the Hall of Theoden King. He will, I percieve, show you kindness and hospitality. Or you may retrace our path north, back to Lorien. You might even consider returning to where you call home."   
  
I took the bag numbly, avoiding eye contact with Aragorn. My heart felt ponderous with sorrow, and a new horror of realization crossed my mind. I had no way to get home. As long as I couldn't explain how I was transported to Middle Earth, I had no way of knowing how to get back.   
  
Aragorn stood, and offered me his hand. I refused, and clambored to my feet, heaving my bag on my left shoulder. I turned my back to the rising sun, and looked west. Edoras was my only hope of seeing the others again.   
  
Aragorn turned me gently around to face him. For the first time that morning, I looked right into his eyes. It seemed to me that his eyes showed all the weight he carried of grief, guilt, and forlorness, and I saw his problems were so much worse than my own.   
  
I instantly forgave him, if not in words, but in thought. I think he saw it on my face, because he gave a small smile. He lifted his hands to hold me on either side of the face, and kissed my forehead. Still smliling, he said, "Boromir was right about you."   
  
I felt my own mouth form the first genuine smile I had given for days.   
  
"Farewell, Eleanor Orthalion, may your path take you to whatever you desire." Aragorn wished, shouldering his own bag.   
  
"I hope you find Merry and Pippin." I replied. Giving me one last look, Aragorn turned, and headed of north, his head down, watching the ground for marks.   
  
I watched him until a hill divided us. Then I sat down and cried for a long time. Everything had gone wrong. I was lost, alone in a field of Middle Earth, and the three people I could connect with had been stolen from me.   
  
After I had no tears left, I stood up. I felt strangly light, as though crying had eased the weight I carried. Hope reviving in me, I headed west, the sun shining warmly on my back, and with every step swelling that spark of hope.   
  
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By nightfall, the knolls of the Emyn Muil had vanished into the horizon, and I was completely surrounded by plains. I rolled out my blanket, and sat on it. I thought about what Aragorn had called me; Orthalion.   
  
I wondered what it meant, and if it was a compliment. By recieving that name, I felt as though I had finally reached Aragorn. The brief time I had looking into his eyes, I understood him. Wasn't that just my luck? As soon as I made a bond with one of the fellowship, he left me, by his will or not.   
  
Pulling out the book Galadriel gave me, I went to the pages of maps, trying to find where I was.   
  
All the locations were labeled in Tengwar, so I had to guess where Edoras was. I knew it was by a mountain range, and found a dot in the coinciding with the requirements. I could only assume that I was somewhere at the third of the way mark.   
  
I wished I could have gone with the others to find Merry and Pippin, and meet Treebeard. Heck, while I was wishing, I wished that Boromir was with me, that I could read Elvish, that my wound was healed, and I had a way of getting home.   
  
But nothing comes from wistful thinking. I laid down, and waited for sleep to take me.   
  
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No reviews from ch. 11. Need I say more? 


	13. The King of the Golden Hall

Chapter Thirteen  
  
The next day, I paced myself faster, realizing if I didn't make it to Edoras in time, I would miss my one chance to rejoin Aragorn and the others.   
  
I would run until I was tired, and then walk until I figured I could run again. I didn't have a lunch, because I Was so intent on reaching the Golden Hall.   
  
The next few days were much the same. On the third day, I woke with unease at some unknown presence. I ran all morning, trying to escape, but it just grew nearer. In the afternoon, I looked behind me, and saw a black speck in the sky. I sped up, and searched for a place to hide.   
  
I finally found a few scraggly shrubs, and dived under them, waiting for the thing to pass. When it did, I looked up and saw the massive fell beast, it's wings beating whirlwinds of air around it.   
  
Then it screamed. The sound was the most horrendous, terryifying, foul sound I have ever heard. I covered my ears and cringed until it was a mere speck again in the horizon of the sky.   
  
I jumped up, and began running, wanting to make up for the lost time. I saw in the distance tall snowy mountains, and my heart leapt. I knew I was getting close, and figured I could reach Edoras in two or three more days.   
  
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The next day I ran faster still, unsure of where all my energy was coming from, but I didn't bother with finding out. As long as I had it, I wasn't about to complain.   
  
The evening of the sixth day of travelling solo, I had reached the gates of Meduseld. I gave a knock on the door, and waited. As I did so, however, it felt as though all the exhaustion I hadn't felt as I was running or walking hit me full force, and I staggered, holding the door for support.   
  
My legs trembled from fatigue, and the familiar tunnel vision was enclosing around my sight. I was in a faint before I even hit the ground.   
  
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I woke in a bed. The first bed I had slept in since Lorien. Someone had knocked on the door. I sat up, startled, and wondered where I was. Then I realized I must be in a house in Edoras.   
  
"Come in." I said softly. The door opened, and a young woman with long blonde hair entered. It was Eowyn.   
  
"Are you well?" she asked. I nodded, swung my feet over the side of the bed, and stood up. I was still in my travelling clothes, but my shoulder had been redressed with a new bandage. My shoes were by the side of the bed.   
  
"How long have I been asleep?" I inquired. "A few hours. Who are you?" Eowyn asked bluntly.   
  
"Eleanor." I replied, and asked who she was, although I already knew. She told me, and then handed me my bag, which had been relieved from me when they found me unconscious at the gate.   
  
"If you have a better dress, I would advise you don it; the king would like to see you." Eowyn said, "I'll lead you to him when you are ready." With that, she left, closing the door behind her.   
  
I opened my pack, and dug around, searching for the blue dress I had been given. It was at the bottom of the bag, forcing me to remove all other things before retrieving it.   
  
I slipped it on, amazed how different it felt from my other dress. It was smooth and cool, and shimmered a bit. I put on the slippers, and washed my face in a basin by a window. I ran my hand over my hair, suprised that it felt as smooth and clean as it had when it was put up.   
  
Elven magic, I guessed, and opened the door. Eowyn gave a brief look of startlement at my dress, and I remembered in Rohan, everyone wore coarse, dark colored clothes. My light shimmery blue dress was bound to get attention. Eowyn led me down a passageway, and into the Golden Hall.   
  
It was beautiful, but my awe ceased as soon as I saw Theoden, whithered, ancient looking, and sick. At his right sat Grima, who began whispering as soon as Eowyn and I entered. Grima stood as I drew nearer, and said, "And who is this Elfriend who is weak at heart?"   
  
I bit back a rude response, and stood silently.   
  
"She was found unconscious at the gates. Who she is, and where she comes from is still a mystery." said a guard behind us.   
  
I drew in a deep breath, and said as boldly as I could, "I am Eleanor Quame, Orthalion by some. The others of my party will be arriving soon. They had business at which to attend to, and sent me here to tell you of their coming."   
  
"And who are your companions?" Grima hissed, looking intently at me.   
  
"There is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. The other twos' names I am not at liberty to reveal."   
  
Grima turned to Theoden, and whispered a few words. Theoden lifted his head weakly, and croaked, "Why should I welcome you?"   
  
A few answers came to mind for me to use, but I settled for, "Because my companions will bring very important news of the war."   
  
"There is no war, and if there was, why should we be concerned?" Grima demanded.   
  
"Because you are targets!" I exclaimed. Eowyn jerked, and said, "We must bring back Eomer back to us, he and his men will easily be enough for an army!"   
  
Grima sneered, "There is no war, and Eomer the warmongerer will certainly not return."   
  
"You may think that, Grima Wormtongue, but your denial will not stop the war." I snapped.   
  
"Eorin!" Grima ordered, "Turn this obstinate woman out of my sight." A guard advanced, and Eowyn objected, "If indeed her friends are coming, let her stay until they arrive, Wormtongue, for once have mercy."   
  
"Mercy on this Orthalion?" Grima countered, then smiled, "What says the king to this problem?" he turned to Theoden. Before the king could give his answer, I said, "Know this, Grima, that I know what you are, along with your fate. I know who you serve, and have powers you cannot imagine." So I was bluffing a bit, but I said them as forcefully as I could, and Grima's already pale countenance turned whiter.   
  
He exchanged a few words with the king, and then Theoden spoke, "You shall stay in Meduseld until your companions arrive, and then you will leave, and take your warmongering elsewhere."   
  
I looked Grima right in the eye, and replied, "That opinion will change by then." Without another word, I strode out of the room, and back to the bedroom.   
  
"Who are you?" Eowyn asked, following me.   
  
"I told you already." I replied, packing my bag. I pulled Celebril from its sheath, and examined it. I felt a new stength within me. I had argued with Grima, and won. I looked at the blade of my sword, still covered in orc blood, and shuddered.   
  
"You have been in battle!" Eowyn cried, and sat down on the bed, looking eagerly at me. I nodded, wiping the blade down with a rag from my pack.   
  
"It is not as glorious as you may think." I said, thinking back to almost a week ago. Eowyn shook her head incredulously. I started to get annoyed with her. "You have no idea what it's like, what it's like to see someone you knew killed."   
  
"My heart is not like yours, then, Orthalion." Eowyn replied strongly, "Yes, I would mourn, but then avenge his or her death, and continue on. We cannot live in the past, not when the future affects us so much more directly."   
  
I thought for a moment, my annoyance ebbing away. She was right, we were just different. I sighed, and looked at the walls.   
  
"What powers do you have?" Eowyn asked after awhile. I laughed briefly, "None that could destroy Grima, or even threaten him."   
  
Eowyn looked disappointed, and then asked again what my power was.   
  
"Foresight." I answered simply.   
  
"A prophet?"   
  
"You might say that." I finished, feeling uncomfortable.   
  
"What is my fate?" Eowyn pleaded. I shook my head, "I can't tell you." seeing her face, I explained, "If I did, and you didn't like what you heard, you would try to change the future, wouldn't you? But if what was foreseen didn't happen, it would change the future of everything, and that is why you must be kept in the dark."   
  
Eowyn nodded, and gazed out the window, and we were quiet for a time. Then a black garbed woman entered the room, and said softly, "Lady Eowyn, Theodred wishes to see you."   
  
Without so much as a goodbye, Eowyn leapt to her feet and dashed out of the room. I walked over to the window, and watched the night grow darker, wondering where the others were.   
  
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The next few days I kept to my room, watching the window more than anything, waiting. I wasn't bothered much. Theodred was very sick, and Eowyn spent most of her time with him.   
  
On the fourth day since my arrival, Theodred died. I heard Eowyn's weeping, but didn't feel close enough to comfort her. Instead, I remained in my room, staring out the window.   
  
In the afternoon, my heart leapt as I saw three horses appear on a hill before Edoras. Two were white, and the other was brown. I couldn't see the riders yet, but rushed out to the front of Theoden's hall, and waited by the steps. Eowyn joined me a few minutes later, looking sad, but also very disturbed.   
  
She caught sight of the riders, and turned to me, "Are these your companions that come hither?"   
  
"Yes. Can you see the one on the brown horse?" I asked. Eowyn squinted, and nodded. I continued, "He is Elessar, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He is in love with an Elf." I added. Eowyn looked at me, "A man and an Elf? How could such a relationship work?"   
  
"In reality, it can't, but both love each other more than anything." I answered. Eowyn gazed thoughtfully at the riders, and then shivered, "Let us return to warmth." I agreed with her. The blue Elven dress was not very adequate for cold winds, and we went back into the hall.   
  
I waited impatiently for them to arrive, and paced back and forth in my room. At last I heard the doors open. I went to the edge of the hall, and watched Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Mithrandir walk towards Theoden.   
  
A large smile grew on my face as I saw Mithrandir. He was back, and would save Theoden. I didn't want to interrupt the fighting they were now engaged in, save Mithrandir, nor when the white wizard released Theoden form Saruman's curse.   
  
I watched patiently until at last Theoden returned to his normal self. Then I remembered that Grima had to be banished, sighed, and waited for them to go out onto the steps, and then come back in. It took longer than I remembered, but they finally returned.   
  
Being able to wait no longer, I dashed out from the hall, crying, "Aragorn!" He spun around, and looked shocked to see me, but then smiled widely, "Orthalion!" he called.   
  
I was so happy to see him I seized him into a hug. He stiffened, but then embraced back. He held me at an arm's length, and said, still smiling, "I am glad you are safe, for I have thought much of your welfare."   
  
I greeted Legolas and Gimli more formally, and then turned to Mithrandir. He acknowledged me stiffly, and turned to speak with Theoden.  
  
"What have I missed?" I asked, knowing perfectly well the answer. Legolas launched into the story of the Ents, and that Merry and Pippin were safe. I rejoiced at that fact, and asked when they would be rejoining our number.   
  
"Later," Aragorn replied, "they must remain with Treebeard for the moment, and we have business not fit for Halflings."   
  
"What does that mean?" Eowyn demanded, entering in on the conversation. Aragorn turned to her, looking at her hard, and then answered, "An inevitable battle lies ahead, and rare is a Hobbit, no matter how brave, that could endure it."   
  
"I don't understand you." Eowyn said. Aragorn sighed, "Lady, do not trouble yourself with such evil matters, and you will be the happier."   
  
Eowyn's face fell, and she looked as though she had been kicked. Inhaling sharply, she whirled around and walked away.   
  
Aragorn shot me a questioning gaze, but I didn't tell him anything.   
  
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The early evening held Theodred's funeral. I pulled my cloak over my dress in hopes to look more mournful, and followed the others to the burial grounds. I stood next to Aragorn and Gimli, and watched guards of the Rohirrim bear Theodred to his final resting place.   
  
I cried. I hadn't even known the guy, but I still cried as hard as those who had. Eowyn sang a song in a different language, and then it was over. Theoden remained behind, as did Aragorn. I let them have their privacy, and went back up to my room.   
  
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laureline: Ah, don't feel guilty. I don't, but then again, I'm. . . me. . . Hmmm. Weather is bad in your country, eh? I can't complain about my state/county/city/subdivision. It's snowing at the moment, and, quite frankly, I'm in a happy mood. Yey.   
  
chibi-mairi: these coming chapters aren't going to be the happiest ones. . . But they will get better. . . I think. Anyway. . . Yeah. I'm done talking now.   
  
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! 


	14. The Argument

Chapter Fourteen  
  
I was in the dark of early morning by Legolas. I objected sleeplily to his shaking, but sat up.   
  
"Wake up, Orthalion." he urged, setting down the lantern he was holding, "We are leaving soon."   
  
That woke me up. "Where are we going?"  
  
A look of annoyance flickered on his face as he replied, "To Helm's Deep. Theoden thinks that it will protect his people. 'Tis a trap, I know it." he went on muttering for a moment longer, then jerked, remembering where he was, and finished off with, "Put on your travelling clothes and be packed by sunrise."   
  
I watched him pick up the lantern, and leave. Then I got dressed quickly, trying to lace my shoes by weak candle light. Shoving all of my things that had managed to escape from my bag, I walked out to the great hall, where Aragorn and Theoden were conversing softly, Legolas and Gimli were whispering the problems of Theoden's plan, and Eowyn stared tiredly at the floor.   
  
I sat down discreetly, and examined my sword. I had managed to clean it of all the dried orcblood, but the memory still hung over like an ominous cloud. I felt sadness creeping into my psyche, and willed it back to shadow. Sheathing Celebril with one hand, I withdrew my book, flipping absently through it. After a minute or two, I set it down, stood, and walked to a window.   
  
It was facing west, and I watched the sky grow lighter, and pink and gold clouds glimmer and change until the bright disc made its appearence.   
  
As Theoden directed us to the stables to ready our horses, I realized I didn't have one. Without even asking if there was a horse extra, Mithrandir declared I didn't need a horse, and that I could walk with the villagers.   
  
An indignant fury which hadn't resided in me for some time resurfaced, and my old attitude returned.   
  
"Can I not be trusted with a horse?" I asked as sarcastically sweetly as physically possible. The grey pilgrim frowned, "I cannot ask of Theoden King to spare one of his horses for you."   
  
His emphasis on the 'you' annoyed me so much, I thought before I spoke, "Oh, I am not worthy of a horse. I am not worthy of trust. Am I worthy of this cloak?" I demanded, yanking it off and hurling it to the floor. Mithrandir's eyebrows raised, and I continued, "Do you think I can be trusted with this long sharp object?" I snapped, jerking Celebril out of its sheath, and twirled it around for a second, then lowered it. "So I'll just walk alone, and ignore the pain in my feet from all of my previous walking?" I continued scathingly.   
  
Gandalf barked something like a laugh. "You think you know exhaustion, and anguish, Eleanor?" I bit back a scream of rage. I glanced around, looking at the others' faces. They were all silent, observing us as if we were an interestingly tense TV show. "I fought alongside Boromir at Amon Hen. I killed more than a dozen orcs. I watched," I felt my throat grow thick, but I ignored it, continuing on, "I watched two arrows imbed themselves into Boromir's chest, and then I saw him die. I held his hand. I heard Merry and Pippin's cries as they were carried of by the Uruk Hai. Don't you ever dare tell me I haven't felt pain."   
  
Without another word, I snatched up my cloak, slung my bag on my bag, and speed-walked out of the hall.   
  
I walked down the stone steps outside, and looked up at the flag of Meduseld. The horse on it motionlessly ran in the wind, never going anywhere.   
  
The cold wind stung my eyes, and, now away from the others, my pace became a normal walk. I stared at the ground, feeling tears push their way into my eyes. I kept telling myself that Boromir was in Heaven, or in the West, but it didn't help. I cried. I cried harder than I had when Aragorn had left me. Still, I continued on my path.   
  
The people of the Mark ignored me, and for that I was thankful. They were too busy packing their belongings for the trip to notice me. I reached the gates, and heaved one open. A guard watched me the whole while, until I closed it behind me. By then, I had run out of tears to cry, and just sniffed miserably as I looked into the east.   
  
The sun glared at me, and the wind whipped my hair in my face, stinging the areas where tears had streaked.   
  
I wanted to go home. I didn't want to stay in Middle Earth. It was like nothing I had ever imagined. It was so much more... ...worse.   
  
The suffering, the pain, the death, and the dependence on hope was so real. That fact had never really affected me, but now I understood. This wasn't just a fantasy world of adorable little halflings, hot Elves, and magic staffs. This was a land of problems no human should have to endure, evil things that should never have been concieved, and an absolution that would never come.   
  
I thought of Frodo, and Sam. Of their path that would take them through nightmares and grief. Of Merry and Pippin, who were probably at ease, drinking their Entdraught and learning the wisdom of the trees. Of Faramir, who was most likely now despairing in hope.   
  
I wondered if I could ever know happiness again. So much was lost, and so much more would become so, and I was helpless. My knees buckled, and I knelt in the tall grass, looking hopelessly at the paling morning sky.   
  
"El!" I heard a voice call. Hooves thudded toward me, but I ignored them. I wanted to be forgotten. I wanted to disappear.   
  
A hand rested on my shoulder. "Why did you leave?" he asked. I turned around and faced Legolas, staring him in the eyes, and remained silent.   
  
"Lord Aragorn is undoubtably still arguing with Mithrandir, but he sent me to fetch you." Legolas said as he gripped my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Fetch. Its so nice to know I was being 'fetched.' Now I could add that to my list of verbs I had experienced. Tied up. Accused. Attacked. Shot. Abandoned. And now fetched. Lovely.   
  
Legolas guided me to his horse. He helped me up, while I remained expressionless, and outwardly emotionless.   
  
"I know your pain, Orthalion. I too grieve the death of friends." Legolas said softly, directing the horse into a canter. I watched the ground pass below me. We reached the gates again. Legolas dismounted, opened the gates, but didn't bother to get back on the horse. Instead, he lead Arod and me through the village.   
  
As we reached the stables, he helped me down, tied up Arod, and we walked to Theoden's hall. Silently, Legolas pulled someting out of his sidepack, and gave it to me. It was Galadriel's book. I had left it on the table and forgotten it. I thanked him, holding it close, and looked at its familiarly foreign writing on the cover.   
  
Legolas smiled, and began, "Is it not odd how one can love something, yet forget of its presence in a moment of high emotion?" I nodded, tightening my grip on the book, and followed Legolas back into the hall.   
  
Aragorn had been speaking, but when we entered, he stopped his speech, and said, "Orthalion, don't make me worry about you like that ever again." turning to Legolas, he finished, "Thank you, Legolas." The Elf nodded, and went over to Gimli.   
  
Aragorn approached me, "Mithrandir asks your forgiveness of his rash words." I glanced over at the supposedly apologetic person, who was now talking softly with Theoden.   
  
I looked back at Aragorn, and said, "Could you forgive him of telling you that you don't know pain?" Without another word, I walked back to my previous chair, and sat in it, staring at nothing for a few minutes, until Theoden stood up, catching everyone's attention.   
  
"Let us go now to Helm's Deep. May our journey be peaceful." So saying, he led us outside, looking down upon the villagers. He gave a short speech to them of hope and confidence, and then went to the stabes. I followed at the rear, and watched Eowyn mount her horse, Legolas and Gimli approach Arod, and Theoden go to his horse. Mithrandir leapt lightly on Shadowfax, and waited for the others to finish. As he waited, he said, "I must go find Eomer and his men. When I do so, I shall meet you at Helm's Deep. Expect me at sunrise on the fifth day." Without another word, he urged Shadowfax into a run out of the stables, and disappeared from our sight.   
  
Aragorn passed Hasufel, though, and went to a dark brown horse a few trainers were trying to control. The ranger calmed the horse by whispering Elvish, and asked Eowyn its name and whom it belonged to. She told him Brego, and that it was Theodred's horse.   
  
"Might El ride it?" he inquired, this time looking at Theoden. Theoden bowed his head slowly in affirmation, and I thanked him.   
  
And so we headed northwest to Helm's Deep.   
  
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kittykatt: Don't we all love Pippin's accent? Every time I hear him talk I just fall into this euphoric state.   
  
little-lost-one: Thank you, and sorry it took so long to upload this chapter-I've been quite busy w/ school junk. 


	15. Arrival at a Deep Helm Sorry bad pun

A lame title for an even lamer pun. My apologies.  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
On the third day of travelling, a scout was attacked and killed by an orc riding a waurg. I watched all the men ready themselves for battle. I looked expectantly at Celebril, wondering if I was supposed to fight.   
  
Hesitantly, reluctantly, I pulled it out of the sheath, wielding it in the brigfht sunlight. Aragorn passed me, and shook his head, "Help Eowyn lead the women and children to Helm's Deep."   
  
I gratefully nodded, and directed Brego over to Eowyn, who was watching the men wistfully as they brought their swords to the sunlight, kicked their horses into a gallop, and went over a hill.   
  
"Eowyn!" I hissed, "We have to help the others." Eowyn started, and then gave a despaired nod.   
  
.  
  
We reached Helm's Deep in the early afternoon. We rode up to the gates, and Eowyn and I watched the people enter. As the last old couple passed through the doors, I expected Eowyn to follow, but she didn't. She continued looking out to the horizon, from where we had come.   
  
Fear gripped my heart. What if my friends were killed? I shook the thought off, persuading my doubt that they wouldn't die.   
  
"When do you think they will arrive?" Eowyn asked softly.   
  
"I don't know." I admitted.   
  
I can only guess how long we both stood there in silence, watching the horizon with rapt attention. After awhile, however, Eowyn sighed, turned around, and entered into the stronghold.   
  
I continued to gaze for a few minutes longer before following her, but I didn't go far. I climbed to the top of the tower right above the gates, and watched the sun begin to lower itself in the sky.   
  
In the early evening, when twilight was near, and I was ready to give up for the night, I saw them approach. I ran down the ruinous steps to the gate, hurled it open, and waited.   
  
Theoden came first. He was clutching his side, but was otherwise unhurt. I smiled at him in greeting. He didn't see me, and continued on through. Next came Legolas and Gimli atop Arod; Both wore lost expressions.   
  
"Where is Aragorn?" I demanded, my heart sinking.   
  
"He fell." Gimli croaked. I steadied myself against the stone wall, telling myself he didn't die. After all, that was just what happened in the movie- it didn't even occur in the book. He fell, but didn't die.   
  
Legolas said nothing, but directed Arod to move on. I watched other men pass through, and when the last man crossed the threshhold, I followed.   
  
I found Eowyn speaking with Theoden, and then I went to find Legolas. He was talking with a guard about something, and I waited until he was finished.   
  
The guard nodded at his last words, and walked away. Legolas turned to me, "What is it, El?"   
  
"I just wondered if when you had the time, if you could help me a bit more on reading Elvish."   
  
I was incredibly bored. I needed something to keep me busy. Legolas shook his head, "Not now, Orthalion, a battle approaches, and there is much to do."   
  
I nodded, trying not to look too disappointed, and wandered off. I found a small room with an equally small window in one corner. I went by the window, spread out my cloak, sat on it, and looked hard at the cover of my book.   
  
I knew the title said 'Knowledge Concerning the Palantiri,' only because Legolas had told me so the first night he helped me. I turned to the first page, and started trying to read it.   
  
It was very slow-going. It took me about half an hour to decipher and translate the first line. I struggled on, working intently and carefully. By the time the sun set, and I couldn't read further, I had translated the first eight lines. It read: Here lies the knowledge of the Palatiri collected by Galadrial of Lothlorien from Master Elrond Half-elven of Imladris, Elros Peredhel, Celebrimbor, and Anarion of Minas Anor.  
  
Exhausted, I put the book down, and looked out the window. The stars shone faintly, as though veiled by a film of clouds. The window was facing the north, and in the far left side of the window, orange and gold still glowed, but faded to dark blue as it reached the right edge of the window.   
  
I laid down on my back, staring up at the high stone ceiling. The sound of my stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten since sunrise, and that I was starving. I pulled out some dried meat and bread Galadriel had given us, and ate it quickly. Taking a swig from my water flask, I laid back down, and drifted into sleep.   
  
.  
  
I was walking through a bright yellow cave, that had pieces of bright cloth strewn about the floor, but that didn't seem out of place. I began picking up the scarves, and looking for something, but I wasn't sure what. Then Frodo jumped out of a stalagmite, which wasn't strange, and accused me of larceny, which was odd, because I knew I hadn't eaten eggs for days. The next thing I knew the scarves had turned into chain mail, and Frodo had turned into my Uncle Vern. He grinned at me, and told me that Elrond was waiting for me. He told me to follow my insticts, which would bring me to the Lord of Rivendell, and wished me good luck in my next battle.   
  
I opened my eyes, and found myself twisted uncomfortably around my cloak and blanket. I disentangled myself, and sat up. Looking out the window, I saw the whole sky smothered in grey clouds, and a cold wind was blowing into my small room.   
  
Thinking of my dream made me feel as though some things will never change. No matter what world I am in, dreams never make sense, and can't be interpretted into wisdom. Seeing Uncle Vern made me grin, until a pang of homesickness overwhelmed me. In an attempt to think of other things, I ate a piece of bread, and puzzled over the next few lines of my book.   
  
After awhile, however, I grew impatient, and went out to find someone to talk to. I wandered the interior of Helm's Deep all morning, and finally rested by the outmost gates, watching the horizon out of a tall thin window.   
  
The vast expanse of land before me seemed endless, and I wondered how the size of all of Middle Earth would compare to my world. For this I thought about for a long time, until I realized that what I had been gazing at was moving. It was a speck of black moving across the ground a long ways off.  
  
I looked to see if anyone else noticed it, but I was alone. Not thinking about consequences, I rushed to where we had stabled the horses, untied Brego, mounted him, and nudged him into a a fast walk to the gates. I hopped down to open one of the heavy doors, lead Brego through, and I mounted him again, kicking him into a run down the bridge.   
  
The wind slapped my face bitterly, but I ignored it. The object was growing near. I saw now that it was a person. Without even considering other possibilities, I knew it was Aragorn.   
  
In a few more minutes, I was even with him. He had collapsed on the ground, and his right shoulder was bare and bloody. I slipped off Brego, and knelt by Aragorn, shaking him gently.   
  
"Aragorn! Are you alright?" I asked worriedly. His eyes flickered, and he mumbled something in Elvish.   
  
I pulled him into a sitting position, and looked at him more closely. His face was bruised, and a few cuts diappeared into his hairline. His shoulder was the worst, though. It looked like it had been chewed on. I grimaced, and wished I would have brought some water, and some cloth to clean his wounds.   
  
I stood up, and heaved him to his feet. He was conscious, but very weak. I helped him onto Brego, and then got on the horse myself, with Aragorn slumped on my back.   
  
I urged the horse into a run, wanting to get Aragorn back to safety as soon as possible. As we neared the gates, I felt Aragorn sit up behind me. Either he was regaining his strength, or didn't want to arrive completely dependent on someone else.   
  
As I rode through the door, I called for Legolas and Gimli. My voice didn't travel far, but they must have been nearby, because both arrived quickly.   
  
"Elessar!" Legolas cried, hurrying forward. Aragorn slid off the horse, stumbled a bit, but then stood up straight.   
  
He turned to me, and gave a small smile, "Thank you, Orthalion. I am indebted to you."   
  
I forced a laugh, "No, if anything, I've paid you off now for your help to me." Aragorn nodded, smiling wider. He turned to Legolas, "Uruks march here. The battle will be tonight."  
  
"Tonight?" Gimli growled.   
  
"Yes. There are thousands upon thousands on their way." Aragorn continued softly.   
  
"How can we win?" Legolas demanded  
  
It was silent for a long time. Then- "We can't." Aragorn's words sent a shudder down my spine. He finished, "But we must warn Theoden. The men must ready themselves for battle. The women and children must go into the caverns of Helm's Deep."   
  
"We are cornered." Gimli exclaimed. Aragorn looked frustrated, "This idea was never mine, but I will not counter Theoden King's words."   
  
Legolas turned to me, "Tell all the women to take their children and go to the the caverns."   
  
Nodding, I led Brego back to the makeshift stables, and went to find Eowyn; I needed her help.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
.  
  
chibi-mariri: Nifty, points for you. I was wondering if anyone would catch the stolen quote. Actually, I haven't seen it for awhile, but that line is so frabjous sounding, I'll stick it anywhere. 


	16. The First of the Seeing Stones

Chapter Sixteen  
  
Nightfall came too soon. I had gathered my few belongings, and followed the others into the caverns, which were a marvel in themselves. Glittering stones spattered everywhere, glinting of the feeblest candle light, and stalactites nearly reaching the floor.   
  
I glanced at Eowyn, who was scowling, and shooting glares at the doors that would keep her from fighting.   
  
Knowing the battle was near, I leand against one of the doors, hearing nothing of the outside world. The exterior room was empty; all the men, young and old, were on the walls, waiting for it to begin.   
  
I remembered my parting with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.   
  
"I will open these doors as soon as the battle is over." Aragorn had promised, holding one of the handles of the said door.   
  
As I had went into the stronghold, I turned one last time to look at the three. Legolas and Gimli were retreating to the outer door, but Aragorn had been watching the activity in the caverns. My eyes met Aragorn's. His revealed worry, and unsure of our fates. I wondered what mine held. Without a word, I entered the cavern, and heard the door slam and lock. There was nothing I could do now, and I realized with a jerk the consequences I would face if the three were killed. I would be here, in the ruins of a battlefield, with nowhere to go.   
  
I went back to my place, and stared at the caves for a long time. I heard pounding, roars, and thunder.   
  
I leaned back against the hard rock wall, and then sat up straight, startled. I felt something, a gentle pulling, like a current. Calming myself, I leaned back, and felt it again. It was so slight I wondered at how I had felt it initially.   
  
I looked around, trying to tell by faces if anyone else felt what I had. The tugging grew stronger, and I realized it was familiar. It was the same pull that I had felt as we entered Lothlorien.   
  
Remembering Galadriel's words made my heart beat faster as I tried to recall her exact words...  
  
"... Perhaps you have felt something, like the presence of something you couldn't understand..."  
  
The straining weakened. I leaned to the right, and it grew stronger. I stood up, and took a few steps. Now it felt as though my insides were being drawn along a designated path, and I had no choice but to follow.   
  
My feet took me far from the others, but I attracted no attention. As I entered a large cavernous room accessible through a tunnel I would never have found on my own, I knew I was close to my target.   
  
Every part of me was tugged to a dark corner of the cave. I felt as though my insides would explode with the feeling. The object doing the pulling needed to be found. I walked more cautiously, now with very little light to guide my way.   
  
Without warning, I tripped on an indention in the rock floor, and tumbled down what I guessed was a steep stairway.   
  
I regained my footing, and gingerly continued down the stairs, feeling the walls for guidance. Finally I reached the base, and was surrounded in thick darkness, but I knew where to go. I walked in a straight line until I bumped into a pillar of some kind. I felt it carefully, finding that it was more of a pedestal.   
  
My hands searched the top of it meticulously, and as they reached the far side, I felt something smooth. The pulling ceased immediately. I cupped the sphere object in both hands, and drew it near to me.   
  
It was cool and perfectly smooth. I knew without hesitation that it was a palantir. I grinned widely, and picked it up. It was heavy, heavier than I expected. I turned to leave, but realized that I wasn't sure of the way back. I walked in a straight line, but I ended up hitting a wall.   
  
I glanced down at my hands, not seeing them, but knowing where they were. Something red-gold began to pulse in the center of the sphere, twisting and writhing, and growing larger by the second.  
  
Dread sank into my heart as I knew what it was. I closed my eyes tight, and concentrated, but I could still see the red light. I thought about the lost palantiri, and willed myself to know their location. The fire from within the palantiri began to fade, and I began to see something different.   
  
Everything was dimly lit. Roars sounded overhead, and crumbling, and screams. There was a patch of light above me, then things began to change again.   
  
Birds sang. Golden light shone through a canopy of green and yellow. Something moved-larger than a person, but it blended with its surroundings too well for me to make it out. Then the scene shredded away into silver fog.   
  
Everything was green and blue. White light filtered down onto a ground of smooth sand, interrupted every so often with a sharp rock. The light flickered strangly on everything, but before I could focus clearly, it dissolved into darkness.   
  
The red flame flickered, growing larger and larger. I snapped my eyes opened, and looked around. I was back in the dark room. The light grew brighter, and more orange and gold. I forced it back to a small ember using a part of my brain I didn't know I had.   
  
When the light was its brightest, I had seen the interior of the room, and my route to the exit. I hurried to the stairs, and sprinted up them as fast as I could.   
  
As I reached the top, panting, I unclasped my cloak, and wrapped the palantir in it. I held it unostentatiously, and followed the dim light back to the others.   
  
Pounding resounded in the distance, and I remembered the first location I had seen. Was the sound from where I had been taken, or from the sounds of battle?  
  
I returned, and saw most of the women asleep, with their children held close. I smiled at a small girl sucking her thumb, while her wide eyes roved the ceiling of the cavern. I sat down on my blanket, and placed my cloak in my pack.   
  
Laying on my back, I felt content. I was fulfilling the mission Galadriel had sent me to do. I was no longer useless. I smiled, feeling as though a burden had been lifted from me. I stared up into the blackness of the high ceiling, and waited for sleep to take me.   
  
.  
  
I awoke a few hours later, unsure of whether it was morning, or night, or even afternoon. It was a very unsettling feeling. Others were talking softly, voicing whether the battle was over or not.   
  
Turning my gaze to Eowyn, I saw that she didn't seem to have moved at all during the whole time we were in the caverns. She sat up straight, with her head bowed slightly, but her eyes were wide and alert.   
  
I stood up, and leaned against the door, straining my ears to hear any sounds. Then I heard hurried footsteps towards the door. I backed away in time for one of the doors to be cracked open, and a guard peered in.   
  
Eowyn leapt to her feet, and ran to the door.   
  
"What news, Eothed?" she demanded. He nodded to acknowledge her, and then continued, "Theoden King requests that you leave the safety of the caverns to meet him, and Lord Aragorn wishes to see some," he stopped, biting his lip, "Or-Ortall-"   
  
"Orthalion?" I helped out, grinning. The guard nodded, and opened the door wider for us to slip through.   
  
Eowyn ran through the room to the far door, and waited for me to join her. We both opened it, and a sight met our eyes.   
  
The outer wall had crumbled in a large section, and most of the stronghold was in ruins, and littered with bodies. I hurried to the edge of the wall, and looked out. A large, dense forest laid where there had been a plain. The trees swayed independantly, and roars, bellowing, and grating screams were heard from within.   
  
The Rohirrim had arrived. They were riding atop their majestic horses, and killing the few remaining orcs.   
  
I raced along the wall, vaulting over slain orcs, and ran to the main gate. At the base of the bridge I saw Aragorn atop Hasufel, Legolas and Gimli on Arod, Gandalf on Shadowfax, Theoden on Snowmane, and a few other brave soldiers, all looking exhasusted.   
  
Eowyn caught up with me, and ran down the bridge to Theoden. I followed, and greeted them with a huge smile. Aragorn smiled wearily down at me, but Gandalf chose to ignore me.   
  
"Tell me of everything!" Eowyn exclaimed, helping Theoden off Snowmane. The king gave a short laugh, and hugged Eowyn with one arm, shaking his head.   
  
A helmed man atop a large horse rode forward with a few other men behind. He took off his helmet, revealing himself to be Eomer. He bowed his head to Aragorn, and slid off his horse.   
  
"Your white wizard found us just in time." he said, smiling slightly. Aragorn nodded, "And your aid was greatly needed. I thank you."   
  
The Elf and the Dwarf, both of whom had been discussing something, burst out into a loud argument. Growling, Gimli toppled off Arod, and stocked up the bridge, followed by a protesting Legolas.   
  
Eowyn drew herself from Theoden and went to greet Eomer. The two exchanged a few words, and then Eomer turned to me.   
  
"Aragorn, you have yet to introduce me to this lady." he commented.   
  
"This is Eleanor Orthalion, a member of our fellowship, and my friend through many dark times." Aragorn supplied.   
  
It sounded impressive. Granted, he could have mentioned the whole distrust thing at the beginning, but I was glad he excluded that.   
  
"Lady Eleanor, it is an honor." Eomer said, kissing my hand. My heart lightened considerably. It's funny how an opinion of a guy can change just by him kissing your hand.   
  
"Aragorn, I have important news." I said suddenly. The way I said it must have sounded urgent, because Aragorn stopped in mid-sentance with Gandalf, and whirled around to me.   
  
"What is it?" he asked.   
  
"Did the Lady Galadriel tell you of my mission?" Aragorn nodded, "Aye, and Legolas told me of the book she gave you."   
  
"I have found one of them in a cave in the keep." I said quietly, because Eomer, Eowyn, and Gandalf were watching us curiously.   
  
Aragorn's eyes widened, and he begged leave of Gandalf. With a frown, the wizard agreed, and I practically dragged him back to the caverns.   
  
Most of the women had taken their children to search for their loved ones, so the cave was mostly emptied.   
  
I ran to my blanket and pack, digging out my cloak. Gently, I unfolded the cloth, and held the sphere out for Aragorn to see. He inhaled sharply, and took it, cradling it as if it were a child.   
  
Abrubtly, he shoved it back at me, closing his eyes tight. I wrapped it back up as Aragorn explained, "I am too weak now to look into it, and even in full health I doubt my strength."   
  
I placed it carefully at the bottom of my bag, piling my other things on top of it, and Aragorn continued, "Keep it secret, and do not bring it out often, for not all of them are accounted for. Now," he finished, "let us go back to the light of morning, I daresay all the men will be keen to tell their battle stories to someone."   
  
I chuckled, and followed him out. Many of the people had congregated in the main room, where wives hugged their husbands, but many women sat alone, with their head in their hands.   
  
Eowyn stood by Theoden and a guard, all talking earnestly about battle. Legolas, Eomer, and Gimli, all of whom had been talking, made their way over to us. Gimli wore a broad smile on his face, "Forty-two orcs I slayed last night, that's one more than this Elf princling!"   
  
Laughing, I looked at Legolas, who didn't look too resentful.   
  
"May I hear the whole story?" I asked, smiling widely. Aragorn launched into the battle from his perspective, interrupted frequently Gimli, who demanded his tale be told. It seemed that Haldir and a legion of Elves had arrived the night before to aid us. Aragorn told me somberly, however, that Haldir had been killed.   
  
"Where are the others?" I inquired, an idea forming in my mind.   
  
"They went to the east wall, and are readying themselves to leave." Legolas replied.   
  
I jumped up, "Where is the east wall?"   
  
Eomer agreed to take me, and guided me to the said wall. Many Elves were cleaning their blades, restringing their bows, and otherwise fixing things.   
  
Thanking Eomer, I hurried among their number. "Is Galawe among your number?" I asked. A fair-haired Elf looked stonily at me, and pointed a ways to the right.   
  
I found him, but when I saw him, I wished I had never gone in search of my friend.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* elrohir lover: heh. Nifty name  
  
AAAclub: Wait... Brego was Theodred's, according to the movie. Because Aragorn instructed that he be set free, since he had seen enough of war. Right? Or am I dreaming this up? Gah, I could have sworn Brego was Theodred's horse.... 


	17. Return to Edoras

Chapter Seventeen  
  
Two blonde Elves stood by him where he lay on the stone. I rushed to his side, "Galawe, what happened?" I asked, looking fearfully at a large bandage covering half his side.   
  
"El." He greeted, looking up at me and smiling. Then he grimaced, "I was fighting an orc, and another caught me from behind."   
  
"Will you be alright?" I whispered. He moved his head to look away from the rising run. He was silent, then turned back to me.   
  
"No."  
  
The word stung me. The familiar pain began to grow again in my heart.   
  
"Do not worry about my fate." Galawe ordered weakly, smiling, "I can no longer live in this land. Mithroch, my old friend, had agreed to take me to the Grey Havens, and then I will go into the West. To the sea!  
  
'To the sea will I go, where the white gulls cry, and a joy I never thought I'd know will greet me by and by. To the sea I shall ride And from there will I row Against the waves and the tide. To the West I shall go. To Eressea, to Elven Home away from mortal gaze and there I shall roam until the end of days.' "  
  
I held back the tears, but knew Galawe sensed them. His smile softened, and he said, "This is exactly what I wanted, El. I have fought, I have loved, I have lived, lived knowing this day would come. I am ready to go."   
  
"I'll miss you." My voice cracked into a sob, and I held his hand. He turned to one of the Elves, "Mithroch, are you ready to leave?" the Elf nodded solemnly. Galawe turned back to me, a look of immense joy on his face.   
  
Mithroch helped him to his feet, supporting him as Galawe had once helped me. I hugged my friend gently, and took a step back.   
  
"May your journey be successful." Galawe bade. I nodded, "And yours."   
  
I turned, and began walking slowly away. The Elves moved out of my way in their own respect, and I left the crowd.   
  
Eomer stood by the edge of the wall, looking at the horizon. His gaze changed as I walked by him.   
  
"What is it, Lady?" he asked, joining my side.   
  
"My friend must go into the West." I answered, shuddering a sob. Eomer placed his hand on my back, and said nothing. Aragorn met us outside the main room, and looked worriedly at me. I told him the news, and left their company.  
  
I wandered aimlessly until I found myself at the Hornburg, the tallest tower in Helm's Deep. I looked down, where the forest raged, at people milling around below me. I turned my gaze to as much as I could see of the horizon.   
  
Thoughts overwhelmed my already filled head. My heart grieved for Galawe, but I knew that he was happy. He was fulfilling his dream; going into the West.   
  
As the sun reached its zenith, I realized I was hungry, and made my way back down to the others.   
  
.  
  
"I must go to Isengard." Mithrandir declared that evening, "Alone or with company."   
  
"For what purpose?" Aragorn asked.   
  
"I have things to discuss with Saruman." he replied. Theoden sat up straighter, "I will join you, Mithrandir. That wizard has done me great injury, and it should be fitting that I be there."   
  
Mithrandir nodded, and it looked as if he was smiling, "Also I have to collect two members of our company. Aragorn, will you come?"   
  
The latter nodded once, "Yea, as will Legolas, Gimli, and Orthalion, if it be your will." Mithrandir looked long and hard at me, then said, "Her help in aiding the others in the return to Edoras would be more needed."   
  
"And what of her friends?" Legolas asked softly. "There comes a time when priorities and sacrifices must be established. We shall return to Edoras after the council."   
  
"Do I have no say in this?" I demanded finally.   
  
Mithrandir turned to me, "Would you rather help the people of Rohan back to their rightful home, or follow us to Isengard to see your friends?"   
  
I opened my mouth in protest, but realized the wizard had already won. By requesting to go with them, I would appear to the others as inconsiderate fool. I raised my head high, and answered, "I shall go back to Edoras, and wait for your return."   
  
"She is one of us!" Aragorn exclaimed, looking hard at Mithrandir, "You cannot ask her to help those who don't need it, and deny her of seeing her dearest friends. I implore you to let her come."   
  
"No, Aragorn," I countered, glaring at Mithrandir, "I will do what is expected of me, and go with the women and older men back to Edoras."   
  
And that was that. I watched Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli ready themselves for departure, and sighed. Eowyn and I saw the large company to the gates, but from there, my three friends, Theoden King, Eomer, and a dozen men, continued down the bridge, and headed north from the setting sun.   
  
"Ready for a long walk?" I asked Eowyn grimly. She smiled sadly, nodding.   
  
.  
  
Early the next day we set out, heading for Edoras. The trip took three uneventful days. The palantir, which was safe at the bottom of my pack, seemed heavier every day, but finally the knoll on which the Golden Hall sat loomed in the horizon.   
  
The people of Edoras cheered among themselves, and we reached the town by nightfall. I went to the familiar room I had slept in previously, and collapsed on it, falling into a deep sleep.   
  
The next day, Eowyn invited me to go riding with her. I agreed, despite the chill weather. We led our horses around all of Meduseld, talking the whole time.   
  
"When will we be accepted?" Eowyn asked wistfully.   
  
"Exactly what is your definition of being accepted?" I inquired.   
  
"Being able to fight, and be treated equally among men."   
  
I was tempted to tell it wouldn't be for a good long while, at least not until the Suffragists, but I didn't want to dash her hopes. Instead, I remained silent, deep in thought.   
  
.  
  
Days past. On the sixth day since we had arrived at Edoras, I stared dutifully out my window, but I was tired of waiting.   
  
Waiting to be accepted, waiting for the others to complete their task, waiting for for the clouds to roll away to reveal the moon. I sighed, and turned my gaze to the west. I hoped Galawe was near the sea. I hoped he didn't hurt from his wound.   
  
I went to my unmade bed, and pulled my bag close to me. I dug out the palantir, and held it tightly in my hands.   
  
I had to find out where the others were, and the book Galadriel had given me wasn't any help without Legolas. Red and gold flickered in the depths of the sphere. I shut my eyes, concentrating on the lost palantiri, and the fire again faded.   
  
Out of the darkness grew a faint light. Again, I was in the small room. The ground shuddered under me, and roars and shrieks wailed above me. I looked around hastily to see where I was. My source of light came from a small hole in the ceiling. Through it, I could see ruinous remains of a room above. I strained my mind to know where I was, but the knowledge didn't come. Then the world disintegrated to the next location.   
  
Again, I was in a golden wood, but when I turned to look elsewhere, I saw darkness. All I could see was straight ahead. I began to feel fatigued, but I willed myself to see the last place.   
  
As the world began to change again, I was jerked into darkness, where the red fire grew larger. I tried to make it vanish, but I was too exhausted. Fear flooded me. I couldn't remove my hands from the palantir, and still the flame grew; into a massive eye of fire.   
  
I tried desperately to let go of the sphere, but I couldn't, nor could I open my eyes. The eye stared right into me, and a foreign pain raced through my body. It spoke, though I don't know how. The words burned in my mind, and the pain was excruciating.   
  
Then I felt my hands being forced from the sphere, and then I clutched at the air. My eyes snapped open, but I couldn't see.   
  
I felt a warm hand on my forehead, and heard in the distance mutterings of an ancient tongue. Then, slowly, my sight returned. I looked up, and saw Aragorn standing over me, with a look of deep concern.   
  
"What did you see?" he asked softly. I stared at him, suprised to see him, and still trying to recover. I struggled to sit up, and answered, "I was looking for the lost palantiri, and then he took over my thoughts."   
  
It was silent for awhile. I sat still, trying to remember what it was Sauron had said, but I couldn't.  
  
"He found Master Peregrin also." Aragorn said slowly. I started, and looked worriedly at him, "Is he alright?"   
  
"He will recover, but Mithrandir has taken him to Minas Tirith with him."   
  
"And Merry?" Aragorn smiled, "He is eating his dinner."   
  
Remembering the palantir, I looked around for it, and saw a wrapped bundle by Aragorn where he sat. I glanced at my bag, and then had a spasm when I saw another piece of cloth covering a sperical shape. Aragorn saw my gaze, and began, "At Orthanc, one of the palantiri was found. That is how Pippin saw him. I told Mithrandir what you were, he didn't believe me at first, but I convinced him that you should take care of it." Without another word, he handed the bundle to me, and walked out of my room.   
  
I sat on my bed for awhile, thinking about my encounter, and then stood up, and went to find Merry.   
  
He was finishing his supper, but when I entered, he looked up, and smiled. I returned the smile, and, restraining myself from hugging him, I sat down across from him.   
  
We sat in silence for a long while, until Merry finally raised his head, and asked, "What have you done, then?"   
  
"Less then you, I'm sure. Tell me of your adventures." I replied. He launched into a story of Ents, and Entmoots, and a flooded castle, and a storehouse of every food imaginable. Then we were silent again.   
  
"Did Boromir tell you?" Merry asked suddenly, looking staright into my eyes. I was taken aback. My mind had been on Treebeard, and to have such a thing asked, bringing back so painful memories shocked me.   
  
"Tell me what?" I almost whispered.   
  
"That he wanted to marry you." Merry replied, reddening a bit.   
  
"How did you know?"   
  
"He liked to talk to myself and Pip-" Merry paused, and sadness flashed across his face, but then he continued, "-and he talked about you constantly. He told us after awhile that he wanted to ask for your hand."   
  
I felt a lump rising in my throat, so I didn't answer. A few silent minutes later, Legolas and Gimli joined us, talking of Fangorn.   
  
"El, how I wish you could have seen the wood!" Legolas exclaimed, sitting down. Gimli muttered something about it not being as good as a cave, and sat down too.   
  
The two continued animatedly about the forest, and whether it was an wonderous as Legolas was making it out to be.   
  
I looked at Merry, who looked right back at me. I stood up, and went to my room. As I opened the door, I realized Merry was behind me, and I was glad.   
  
"Something you want to talk about?" I asked, entering the room. Merry's eyes fell to the floor, and he looked around the room. His gaze locked on the two wrapped palantiri.   
  
"Is that-" he began. I nodded. He was silent for awhile, then mumbled something that I couldn't distinguish.   
  
"Why did he have to look?" Merry demanded bitterly, flopping on my bed. I, sitting perched on the footboard, sighed, and answered, "Curiousity and ignorance, most likely."   
  
The Hobbit plucked at the cloth of one of the bundles apathetically. Then he looked back at me, "Do you know what he saw?"   
  
I paused, thinking of what I too had seen."Yes."  
  
We sat in silence again, until there was a knocking on the door. Eowyn entered, smiling slightly at Merry, and said, "Master Meriodoc, Theoden King wishes to speak to you."   
  
Merry got up, and left, leaving me alone in my thoughts. I found I was exhausted, cleared off my bed, and went to sleep.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ . Laureline: She needs to find....3 more, I believe. There were seven in all (I did my research)  
  
AAAclub: Alright, you win. 


	18. The Beacons are Lit!

Chapter Eighteen  
  
A few days later, as I sat on the steps outside of Theoden's hall, I gazed boredly out at the mountain range to the south.   
  
I wanted something to happen. Tired of residing in Edoras, I wanted to go back on the road. I examined every peak of the Ered Nimrais, thinking of Frodo and Sam. They must be in Mordor by now. Had they met Faramir yet?   
  
Something sparked on one of the tallest peaks. I strained my eyes to focus on what was going on, but I didn't need to wait long. Aragorn came loping toward the hall, a look of satisfaction on his face.   
  
"The beacons are lit!" he cried. I jumped to my feet, realizing what this meant. I followed him into the hall of Meduseld, and he repeated what he had told me to Theoden.   
  
"Gondor calls for our aid!" he added. Theoden thought for a moment, "Then Rohan shall answer it. Eorin!" he barked. A guard straightened, and the king continued, "Muster the Rohirrim."   
  
I hurried to my room and began packing everything. Two palantiri in my pack was promising to be heavy, but I didn't care. We were headed for Minas Tirith!   
  
By the next morning, we were finally ready. I went with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Eowyn, and Thedon to the stables, where we mounted our horses, or, in Merry's case, his pony.   
  
As we travelled southeast, Eomer joined us at the front, reporting to Theoden the actions of the Rohirrim. Then he fell back a ways to talk to Merry and myself.   
  
"How do you fair, Orthalion?" he asked chivalrously. I told him I was fine. He nodded, "I have not seen you much since we departed from Helm's Deep." It was my turn to nod, and then inquired the strength of the Rohirrim.   
  
"They are ready for battle." he replied earnestly, "And stronger men you could not find elsewhere. They are loyal to the Mark, and I trust them with my life."   
  
"Will there be a battle?" Merry asked, a light in his eyes.   
  
"It is inevitable." he answered. Merry straightened up to his fullest height, which wasn't impressive except to another Hobbit, and said grandly, "I shall be honored to fight by your side."   
  
I smiled, and looked at Eomer. He looked back at me, but his face showed no emotion. His eyes he cast down to Merry, who was currently searching his bag.   
  
The halfling grinned widely as he withdrew an apple, and offered another to me. I accepted, and the two of us munched the fruit we continued to talk.   
  
"How long will it take to get to Minas Tirith?" Merry questioned, later that day.   
  
"A fortnight, if we continue all day, resting only at night." Eowyn answered, slowing her horse to join our number.   
  
Eomer watched her for a moment, then began, "Are you sure you wish to follow us until we reach the Vale of Erech?"   
  
"It is tradition." she answered shortly.   
  
We had been travelling through a scraggily inclined forest, slowly ascending the Ered Nimrais, but now we entered a small, but pretty valley. It was nearly twilight, and the way the sun was cast upon the grass made me want to sing.   
  
I debated for awhile of what to sing, and settled on a poem/song I had memorized from The Hobbit. Softly, making up the tune as I went, I began to recite:   
  
"O! What are you doing, And where are you going? Your ponies need shoeing! The river is flowing! O! Tra-la-la-lally here down in the valley!  
  
O! What are you seeking, And where are you making? The faggots are reeking! The bannocks are baking! O! Tril-lil-lil-lolly the valley is jolly, ha ha!"   
  
I stopped abrubtly, because the last few lined I hadn't sung by myself. Legolas was riding by me, and smiled, and continued singing the song in its rightful tune. I grinned too, and continued, stumbling on the melody;  
  
"O! Where are you going? With such affairs scattered? No knowing, no knowing What brings such a-tattered but tired, fine nobles down in the valley in June  
ha ha!  
  
O! Will you be staying, or will you be flying? Your ponies are straying! The daylight is dying! To fly would be folly, To stay would be jolly And listen and hark to the end of the dark to our tune ha ha!"   
  
"What are you singing?" Merry inquired, joining us. Legolas glanced at me, smiled, and replied, "A song I had long forgotten. Come, let us sing another song!"   
  
Merry made a gleeful sound of agreement, and burst into a song. It was then I realized what a Tolkien-freak I was, because I recognised it immediately, and was able to sing along with him.   
  
After his song, Eomer taught of a song of his men about marching, bravery, and hope. It was a wonderful time as we sang happily; not carring about anything else in the world except the next verse, and whether we knew it or not.   
  
As darkness fell, we made camp. By that time, Legolas had unwound greatly, and was singing joyous songs of the seasons in Mirkwood. Aragorn was beholding him with a curious sort of grin. It was a side of the Elf none of us had seen before, but I must say that this merry Elf was much more enjoyable than the silent, prophetic, warrior-Elf.   
  
That night, as we sat around a large fire, waiting for the deer over the spit to roast, a good many of us just sang. It was probably the happiest I had ever been during my whole journey, which was just as well, considering all the dark times ahead of us all.   
  
.  
  
In the morning, we crossed the foothills of the mountain, and travelled along the the slope of the mountainous range. I journeyed mostly with Merry, and Eowyn. Sometimes Eomer, when he wasn't overseeing the Rohirrim, would join our number.   
  
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli talked amongst themselves often, and in this fashion, we travelled for a week.   
  
On the eighth day, we reached the Druadan Forest, by the road we had been on of East Anorien. It was there that Aragorn had a long council with Theoden, Eomer, and a few others.   
  
As the stars grew bright, their meeting was over. Aragorn joined Merry, Eowyn, Legolas, Gimli, and me, with a dark look on his face.   
  
"What news?" Legolas asked.   
  
"There is not enough men of the Rohirrim to aid Gondor as we hoped. I must go to the Stone of Erech, and seek the Paths of the Dead."   
  
"The Paths of the Dead!" Eowyn demanded weakly, her eyes wide, "But you go to certain death and torment!"   
  
"I think not, good lady of the Mark," Aragorn answered, "Not when I wield Anduril, and make a bargain with the King of the Dead."   
  
"I shall go with you." Gimli growled. Aragorn smiled, "It is dangerous, my friend." Gimli shook his head confidently.   
  
"I too shall accompany you." Legolas said.   
  
"And I!" Merry exclaimed. Aragorn looked down at the Hobbit, his smile saddening, "Nay, my stout-hearted friend, you are needed with Theoden."   
  
"And I?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Aragorn's smile was forced now, and he shook his head slowly, "If anything should happen to you, I would never forgive myself."   
  
"And if Gimli was hurt? Would you react the same if something happened to him, or Legolas?" I questioned.   
  
The Heir to the Throne of Gondor gripped my wirst, and pulled me into the shadows of the trees. In a hushed voice, he began, "I could not let you go without Eowyn feeling betrayed. She cannot be allowed to be in danger, for if something happened to Theoden and Eomer, she would inherit the throne. Now do you understand?"   
  
I nodded, but it was dark, and Aragorn demanded a bit more harshly if I understood. His tone stung like nothing I had ever felt before.   
  
"Yes." I bleated, and hurried back to the fireside. Merry, Eowyn, and I sat in a dejected huddle, all of us wanting to be included.   
  
Eomer joined us later, informing us that we should get some rest before we continue our journey in the morning.   
  
Merry curled up in his blanket, but Eowyn and I remained awake, talking softly of battle and travels.   
  
About an hour after Merry fell asleep, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, leading their horses, entered the faint glow of the dying fire.   
  
"Goodbye, Orthalion." Aragorn bade, nodding solomnly at me. He said a formal goodby to Eowyn, and disappeared into the darkness.   
  
"May a near day find us all together again." Legolas wished, gazing at the sky. He didn't even look at me as he and Gimli followed Aragorn into the eveloping night.   
  
Legolas's phrase made me think a bit. I thought of how scattered the Fellowship had become. Pippin and Mithrandir in Minas Tirith, Merry and myself on the road, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli heading to the paths, Boromir, who was beyond this world, and Frodo and Sam, who were probably even now losing hope in ever finishing their task.   
  
So deep in thought was I, that I hadn't even realized that Eowyn had gone to sleep. I decided to follow suit, falling into a dreamless sleep.   
  
.   
  
In the morning, I woke early to see the rest of the camp nearly ready to go. Panicing, I jumped up and began putting loose objects back into my pack. I looked around to find Eowyn, but she was nowhere to be seen.   
  
Merry slept on. I gently shook him awake, and when he saw that the party was about to leave, he hastily packed up his things.   
  
Eomer came over to us, a worried look on his face.   
  
"Have you seen Eowyn?" He asked. I shook my head, and he sighed, "I fear her lust for battle has clouded her sense. Should you see her, tell her to find me, I need to speak with her."   
  
"What if-" I began, but just then, I heard a familiar zinging sound, and then a cry of pain. Eomer was at once in his element. He unsheathed his sword, and sprinted over to the source of the sound. I followed cautiously behind, and saw Eorin on his back, with a thick arrow protruding from his chest. One man knelt by him, while the others drew their weapons, and began to locate the enemy.   
  
I heard a grating command from within the forest, and the air was thick with arrows. I dropped to my hands and knees. I scrambled over to my bag, and seized Celebril. Merry had already drawn his small sword, and his eyes were darting everywhere.  
  
It seemed the Rohirrim had found the band of orcs. The sound of sword on sword rang through the woods, and I hurried to help. On the way, I ran into someone who was watching where he was going. I looked up, and was suprised to see Eowyn.   
  
Her eyes gleamed from an unknown light, and a sword was gripped in both her hands. Together, we joined the men, and fought against the orcs.   
  
Before I could do any damage, however, it was over. The band of orcs was small, and not expecting so many opponents, even though not even half of the Rohirrim had even fought.   
  
Only four men of the Mark were killed, and none were wounded too bad.   
  
"We must reach Minas Tirith by nightfall." Theoden called over the men. He came over to where Eowyn and I stood, "May your return to Rohan be safe and swift."   
  
Eowyn nodded passively, and Theoden turned back to lead the Rohirrim.   
  
Merry, clad in armor too big for him walked over to me, a look of deep gloom settled on his face.   
  
I knew he had been denied the opportunity to be in battle. I glanced warily at the four fallen soldiers. Making up my mind, I darted over to their forms, and hastily removed one's helmet, and another's breastplate.   
  
Hurriedly and clumsily, I fastened the armour across my front, and, wadding my hair up into a bun, shoved it into the helmet along with my head. My skirt was still horribly obvious, but I was just one person among hundreds.   
  
"Come on!" I hissed to Merry, helping him on Brego. I hopped on behind him, and looked around. Eowyn had also donned her armour, smiling widely, she rode up alongside us, and, with a wordless connection between her and myself, we spurred our horses after the Rohirrim.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
.  
  
Forlorn: Wow, 8. . .That's right! Ok, points for you. But 2 in Barad-Dur? Where was that stated? Hmmm. . .  
  
chibi-mairi: Sorry, if I could rewrite some of my chapters, I would make it more apparent that Boromir liked her. Oh well, what's uploaded is uploaded.   
  
AAAclub: lol, nah, not annoying. Slightly, perhaps. Anyway, the whole Barad-Dur-being-under-lava; I figured out (hopefully) so that it will work, don't worry. Can you just imagine someone sitting on cooled lava, chiseling away in search of the. . . OK, I'm done. 


	19. Battle of the Pelennor Fields

Chapter Nineteen  
  
We rode at the back of the legion, trying to be unnoticable. I felt that any moment, one of the men on either side of me would notice my skirt, or the Hobbit sitting before me. That evening, the three of us camped a ways from the others.   
  
"Do you know anywhere I could get some pants and leg armour?" I joked quietly. Eowyn grinned, and didn't answer.   
  
We sat in silence for a moment, then Eowyn looked thoughtfully at me, and asked, "Can you sew?"   
  
"A bit." I admitted.   
  
"Wait here." she instructed, and walked off. She returned a few seconds later, carrying a small pouch made of coarse cloth, which she handed to me. Curiously, I opened it, and saw an assortment of needles, cloth, and thread. "Master Meriodoc, turn away, please." Eowyn began, Merry did so, and Eowyn continued, "Now, use your sword, and cut a slit up the front and back of your dress. Then you can sew them together like pants. It's not the ideal solution, but it's all I could come up with. I'll go help Merry make dinner." So saying, she went off.   
  
"Alright" I called to her retreatng back, dismayed slightly, because I like my dress, but I realized I had to have my priorities first. Making sure I was in absolute privacy, I took off my armour and helmet, slipped out of my dress, and hurriedly cut the skirt.   
  
I've never been good at sewing, but I sewed faster than I thought I ever could. In roughly ten minutes, I had stitched the skirt into a pair of loose pants. I put it on, and then felt like an idiot.   
  
I felt like I was wearing a jumpsuit. Now, I've never been a slave to fashion, but I felt like I was some punk-freak in Middle Earth trying to rebirth the styles of the eighties. I ripped the seams around the waste, in hopes to make a two piece suit.   
  
Fastening my belt around the pants that were now too loose, I felt more clothes-secure, in more ways than one. As I was putting on the breastplate, Eowyn and Merry reappeared. Merry was carrying a large pot of a steaming substance.   
  
"We made stew." He announced, setting it down. Eowyn ladled the stew into three shallow bowls, and we ate our dinner quickly. The rabbit in the stew was still cold in the middle, but the carrots were just right, and the broth was good.   
  
After dinner, we talked in low voices of battle until the moon rose to her zenith. Then we agreed to sleep.   
  
.  
  
In the early morning, we gathered with the rest of the Rohirrim, and listened to Theoden give his orders.   
  
"We should reach Minas Tirith this afternoon," he began, "and when we do, I want all of you to order yourselves as you usually would in battle instances. Let us ride!" he cried, spurring Snowmane into a gallop. With a cheer, the rest of us followed.   
  
We were closer to the white city than I had thought. The sun had not even fully risen before we were looking down upon the Pelennor Fields.   
  
A battle raged already. Legions and legions of orcs swarmed beneath the city, catapulting fire and moving the great towers to the wall. I glanced at Osgiliath. It was in ruins, and seemed to be abandoned. All the action was on the fields.   
  
My courage quavered. Theoden was speaking about bravery and strength, but I wasn't listening. My eyes were latched mesmerized on the firey battering ram approaching the great doors.   
  
I gripped the reins of Brego, and looked over at Eowyn. She was smiling grimly. In front of her sat Merry, a look of determination on his face. I wondered if I looked as scared as I felt.   
  
We charged. I urged Brego into a run, and from there my mind went blank. I forgot about everything except the line the orcs were forming before us. My mind only had one purpose now: kill all the orcs you can, nevermind about staying alive.   
  
I held Celebril high, and ran it through the first orc near me. I yanked it out, and kept riding. My emotions had left me. Brego took me from the thickest of the orcs, and I continued stabbing the horrid monstrosities as fast as my arm would let me.   
  
Brego reared on his back legs as I heard the sound of a released arrow. Brego's forelegs pawed the air for a second, and I felt his body tremble.   
  
Then he fell. I didn't have time to do anything, only see the earth come up to me, and then hear the sickening thud as Brego hit the earth. All his legs flailed in the air. It took me a moment to realize that the horse had fallen on my left leg. The pain suddenly hit me full force. Everything went white for a second, then darkened back to the scene.   
  
An orc ran at me, his rusty sword raised. I drew Celebril, and plunged it into his stomach as he neared. He staggered back, and fell. I tried to pull my leg from under Brego, but the pain was too much. With all my might, I pushed Brego's heaving back, but that was no use.   
  
The battle continued around me. I rested a hand on Brego's stomach. I felt his labored breathing, and whispered softly to him. I sang the only song I knew in Elvish, and I felt his breathing calm some. Then it stopped altogether. A dead weight fell on me. Once again, I tried to force the beast off of me, but it was no use.   
  
I collapsed in despair, and looked up at the sky. So this was it. Some orc would come by, and kill me faster than I could call for help.   
  
Hearing footsteps draw near me, I figured my time had come. I looked around, but saw instead of an orc, a helmed man, dropping his sword. He hurried to me, staring hard at Brego.   
  
"Help me push." he instructed, placing his hands on the back of the horse. We both heaved at Brego. I felt the stress on my leg lighten.   
  
"Get out!" shouted the soldier. I wriggled from under the horse, ignoring the pain in my leg. I propped myself up, and looked at the man. His gaze had turned from me to an orc rushing at us. He scrambled for his sword, but it was too late. I watched in horror as on of the orcs ran its sword through him. The man's legs buckled, and he fell silently to the ground. The orcs turned to me, his sword still holding the blood of my rescuer.   
  
Anger seethed in me, and I held Celebril as high as I could, trying to remain in a sitting postion with the other hand. I parried the first blow, and tried to counter, but the orc was too fast. He blocked me, and managed to make a shallow scratch on my shoulder.   
  
I pushed myself away from the orc as fast as I could, always keeping my eyes on my enemy's face.   
  
The orcs face changed. His red eyes lifted from me to above me, and his sneer disappeared. He dropped his sword, and ran away. I felt relief, sure that a member of the Rohirrim was behind me, tall and powerful.   
  
I couldn't have been more wrong. I turned around and saw a mammoth of a beast careening towards me. It had three sets of sharp tusks, all dressed in even sharper spikes. On it's back was strapped what looked like a house full of armed men.   
  
The Mumak, Oliphaunt to Sam, lumbered closer to me. I tried desperately to stand, but my left leg was utterly useless. By the looks of it, it was probably broken.   
  
The trunk-like legs of the Mumak were thick with arrows, and an insane plan developed in my tired mind. The beast thundered ever closer. I knew that if I made one wrong move, I would probably be dead.   
  
I struggled to kneel, and waited. The Mumak was now about twenty feet from me. I gathered up my strength, and as the beast was feet from me, I lunged at the right front leg.   
  
My fingers wrapped tightly around one of the arrows, and I swung my right leg up to catch another imbedded arrow. I thanked God that long bows had been invented in Middle Earth. The force the arrow had been sent zinging from the bow had made sure the arrow was nearly half-way in the target.   
  
In other words, the arrows held me up just fine. It was like climbing a great moving rock wall of doom. I finally found a place where I could half-sit on an arrow, with my left leg dangling. My hands gripped tight to an arrow just above my head.   
  
And in that fashion, I survived the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. I like to believe that my position looked as if I had been pinned against the Oliphaunt, and was dead. I barely moved for fear of falling, and soon I was exhausted from holding myself up in such a way.   
  
My arms went numb from being held above my heart for so long, and my left leg ached. As I was giving up in fatigue, I saw flooding near the field an phosphorescent green army.   
  
My strength returned, and I grinned. Aragorn's trip had been successful. The Soldiers of the Dead swept over the orcs and mumakil alike, killing them easily.   
  
Then I remembered my position. The green army was drawing nearer, and I knew they would also kill the Mumak that was carrying me, and, corresponding with Murphy's Law, it would probably fall on top of me. As carefully, but quickly as I could, I lowered myself to the lowest arrows, and watched the ground fall and rise beneath me as the beast lumbered along.   
  
I would have to let go, and then roll out of the way. If I didn't, I'd be crushed by the hind legs. I mustered all my courage I had left, and let go as the foot was lowering back to the earth.   
  
The impact jarred me, but I rolled as fast as my arms would let me. As one of the back legs passed over me, I watched the Army of the Dead swarm upon the beast, sending it to the ground.   
  
I laid on my back for quite some time, gasping for air and strength. A horrible shriek rang through the fields, and a black shadow crossed over me. The Lord of the Nazgul and his fell beast had made their entrance.   
  
I couldn't bear to even try and watch what I knew was happening. Instead, I pushed myself into a sitting postition, and looked around.   
  
The orcs had been beaten. The combination of the Rohirrim, and the strength of MInas Tirith, and the dead soldiers had been too much for them. I knew we had won the battle, but it didn't lighten my heart.   
  
Straining my eyes, I tried to find a familiar face, but it was useless; the field was large, and there were too many beings on it. Night was falling, as was my hope.   
  
A realization struck me. If Eowyn and Merry were unconscious after their dealings with the Nazgul, which they undoubtably were, then there was no one else who knew I had fought. I looked towards Minas Tirith. It seemed miles away.   
  
I rolled on my stomach, and began dragging myself towards the city. It was pathetic, I know, but I had to get there.   
  
An hour passed, and still I pulled myself along. I stopped to take a break, resting against a dead horse. I looked hard at the horse, and hope rekindled in my heart. It was the fallen form of Brego. It must have been kicked along by one of the mumakil, but here it lay, broken and still.   
  
My heart grieved for the dead horse, but I couldn't help feeling glad. Hardly daring to hope, I searched the saddlebags. All my things remained intact, including the two palantiri.   
  
It seemed almost to perfect, but I wasn't complaining. I unstrapped the bag, slung it over my shoulder, and continued my slow progress towards the white city. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
.  
  
chibi-mairi: Thanks, I hate stories that are so fake sounding. Like... well, any Mary-Sue fic. :Shudder:  
  
AAAclub: Thanks. Compliments make me feel fuzzy inside. :-) Wrath of AAAclub.... curiouser and curiouser.... And the chapter will continue rolling rolling rolling..... 


	20. The House of Healing

Chapter Twenty  
  
The moon was at its zenith when I finally reached the gates. The large beautiful carved doors had been beaten from forced entry, and I struggled through one of the many holes.   
  
"Who's there?" barked a harsh voice. A cloaked figure slipped from the shadows. I collapsed onto the cobblestone. My throat from dry from lack of water, and my leg was hurting worse than ever. Still, I managed to reply weakly, "A friend."   
  
The figure drew near, and I saw his face from beneath his hood. It was skeptical, but his eyes revealed concern.   
  
"My leg, I think, is broken." I whispered, trying once more to sit up. The guard knelt down by me, and then looked shocked.   
  
"You're a woman!" he exclaimed.   
  
"Could you take me to the House of Healing?" I asked. The man nodded, and, without another word, picked me up, and carried me over to a corner, where stood a lean pony. He set me on the animal, and then guided the pony up through the city.   
  
We travelled in silence, and for that, I was thankful. The road was long, and darkness radiated from every stone of the city.   
  
After some time, we finally arrived at what I assumed must be the House of Healing. The guard knocked once on the door, and a woman greeted us.   
  
"Another warrior?" she asked, barely glancing at me.   
  
"Yea, good Ioreth, but also a woman." Ioreth peered curiously at me, she gave a sad smile, "Is Eomer encouraging the women of Rohan to join the Rohirrim?"   
  
The guard shrugged, and turned to leave. I thanked him, and Ioreth supported me into a room full of peopled beds divided by linen cloth for privacy.   
  
There was an empty bed near one corner, and she helped me sit on it. I took off my helm, and breastplate, and rubbed my shoulder where I had been cut. Ioreth carefully ripped the leg of my pants so she could clean my left leg.   
  
I smiled to myself. I was sure Galadriel had never dreamed when giving me that dress that it would be torn and patched up so many times.   
  
Once Ioreth had cleaned and banaged my leg, she gave me a cup of warm medicine. I drank it, and fell into a deep sleep.   
  
.  
  
When I woke up, it was because I felt the gaze of someone's eyes. I opened my own, and looked around. It looked to be late afternoon, and from the silence I guessed that many of the beds were now empty.   
  
"Did I wake you?" Asked a concerned voice. My gaze shifted to the speaker. It was Eomer. I shook my head, smiling, "No, what are you doing here?"   
  
"So many friends of mine are here." he answered sadly, "Men of the Rohirrim, Eowyn, Master Meriodoc, and yourself."   
  
"How is Merry?" I asked. Eomer sighed, "He sleeps still, as does my sister. They have been through much." I nodded, sinking back into my pillow. I noticed I had been changed into a white night gown. How did people manage to change other people's clothes without waking them up? I marveled at the mysterious talent, and then looked again at Eomer.   
  
He was staring out a far window, and I could tell his thoughts were even farther away. We sat quietly for a long time. Finally, Eomer turned back to me, "Can I get you anything?"   
  
I looked at my bedside table, and saw my bag. Then I thought for a moment, and answered, "How is Pippin?"   
  
"Is he the other Halfling?" I nodded.   
  
"He has visited Master Merry thrice since the battle, but he has been very busy."   
  
"When was the battle?"   
  
"Four days ago."   
  
I closed my eyes in thought, "Did he not visit me?"   
  
Eomer opened his mouth, then closed it, then replied uncomfortably, "Forgive me, El, but Merry and Eowyn are in the highest rooms, and, well, you are among the other injured. Few even knew of your presence." he added hastily, "Not even I knew you were here had it not been for Ioreth."   
  
"Ioreth?" I asked, amused.   
  
"Yes, she asked me what I was thinking when I let two women fight alongside the Rohirrim. I knew of Eowyn's actions, but I could guess who the other woman was." He grinned slyly at me.   
  
"How did you respond to Ioreth's question?" I inquired. Eomer's grin turned to a large smile, "I told her she was absolutely right, and that I should think before I recruited another woman to the Rohirrim."   
  
"You didn't correct her?"   
  
"It is useless arguing with that old maid," Eomer laughed, "her tongue is as sharp as a sword, and anyway, what harm has it done?"   
  
"Ambitious young women everywhere will be wanting to join her country's army, and in years to come, everyone will blame you for such a thing coming to be." I joked. Eomer chuckled, and stood up.   
  
"It grieves me to leave your side, El, but there are matters which I must still attend to."   
  
"Where is Aragorn, and the others?" I asked as he was turning to go.   
  
"They are holding council with Mithrandir. Shall I tell them of your presence?" I nodded, thanking him for visiting me, and watched his retreating form.   
  
I stared straight ahead of me, not knowing what to do now. I knew that sooner or later, Aragorn would lead the march to the Black Gate. The quest was drawing to an end. Confusion swirled like a storm in my mind. Where would I go?   
  
Perhaps Aragorn, once he is king, will let me stay in Minas Tirith. Maybe I could go with Legolas and Gimli. I didn't want to burden them, though. I sighed, thinking of other possibilities. I didn't want to have to follow anyone. I wanted to be independent. I was beginning to finally accept the fact that I couldn't return to my real home. My heart ached, and I felt so alone.   
  
There was nowhere I could really feel at home, because it was so different. I felt tears stinging in my eyes, but I blinked them back.   
  
I was beginning to wish I hadn't survived the battle. Did I even have a reason I wanted to continue living?   
  
A coldness seeped into my heart, and I felt weak. Suicide meant eternal damnation. Surely I wasn't that bad off. I breathed slowly, trying to relax.   
  
There was Merry and Pippin; I loved them. I thought of the soldier that had been killed after saving me.   
  
That did it. I resolved in my heart that for him, I couldn't lose hope. His sacrificed life would not be in vain; I must insure that my life would have been worth saving. I felt strength growing within, and a warmth washed over me. There were still the three palantiri to find.   
  
I flung the blankets off of me, and looked down at my left leg. It was bandaged tightly, and it appeared that Ioreth had set the bone straight at some time. I was grateful I hadn't remembered it.   
  
I stretched off the bed, and pulled my pack up on my lap. I withdrew one of the palantiri, and held it tight in both hands. I concentrated on the first lost stone; I must know where it was hidden. Closing my eyes tight, I thought of the surroundings.   
  
The chamber was dark, and it was absolutely silent. There was nothing to hear- no thundering of feet, no sound of crumbling rock.   
  
Where is it? I asked to the darkness. Somehow, I felt that I would get an answer this time. The part of my brain I knew I had never used before seemed to grow hot, and I felt energy pulse through me.   
  
Where is it? I demanded of my brain. I strained my mind, looking hard at the chamber. Abruptly, I knew where it was. It was as if the answer had been in my mind, and I had just found it.   
  
Osgiliath. It rested in a chamber beneath the floor of the ruined king's bed quarters. I smiled to myself. I decided against tackling the next location. If I was just a bit tired as I looked into the stone, I knew Sauron would find me.   
  
Slowly, gradually, I broke connection with the palantir. My mind returned to the House of Healing. I opened my eyes.   
  
I jerked as I realized someone sat on the foot of my bed.   
  
"Aragorn!" I gasped, "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Forgive me, Orthalion, I did not mean to startle you." He apologized. I shook my head, smiling now that I had gotten over my suprise.   
  
"How are you?" I asked, wrapping the palantir back up and setting it back in my bag.   
  
"I was about to ask the same question of you." Aragorn replied, "But I am fine, or, as well as I could be under the circumstances. What did you see in the palantir? You were absorbed in it for many hours."   
  
Shocked, I looked out the window, and saw only darkness. "Um, I'm fine, I guess. I broke my leg." I gestured obviously to my bandaged leg.   
  
"How?" Aragorn inquired. I told him. I also told him of my ride on the Mumak. He laughed heartily, and answered, "My dear El, I think you are the first warrior to ride on the foot of a Mumak."   
  
"I am no warrior." I corrected him, "I can't even fight well."   
  
"In combat, perhaps not." Aragorn admitted, "But you have fought, if not with your sword, but with your heart, and will. You are stronger than many, and you possess a great gift." He rested his hand on the wrapped palantir.   
  
I felt embaressed. I never know what to say when I'm complimented, so I changed the subject.   
  
"I know where one of the palantiri is."   
  
Aragorn lifted his head, and looked expectantly at me.   
  
"It's in Osgiliath." I whispered. Aragorn nodded, and then looked hard at me.   
  
"Orthalion, I have-" he paused, "-news."   
  
"What?" I asked, worried.   
  
"Frodo and Sam are near Orodruin, but Gorgorath lies before them. We must cause a diversion, so they may pass unnoticed."   
  
"And by we, you mean yourself, Legolas, Gimli, Mithrandir, and the Rohirrim?" I sighed.   
  
"And Master Peregrin." Aragorn added hesitantly. That struck a chord in my heart. I sat up straighter, "You send him to his death!"   
  
"You should not doubt him, El." Aragorn responded softly, "For all that go, death most certainly waits. But it is not our lives that matter, don't you see?"   
  
I felt like crying, but I held back the tears. This was all so hopeless. I had only Tolkien's word that my friends would survive, and did not comfort me in the least.   
  
"So I will stay here, and wait for your return that will not come?" I asked resignedly. Aragorn didn't answer. Instead, he stood up, and gazed out the window.   
  
Finally, he turned to me. His gaunt face shone in the moonlight, and I saw his pain. "We leave in the morning, but I will send Pippin to see you." Without another word, he disappeared from my sight.   
  
.  
  
I don't think I slept that night. I forced myself to stay awake, in case anyone should come with news of any kind.   
  
As my partitioned room began to lighten with the promise of a sunrise, the cloth door was pulled aside, and Pippin peered in. When he saw me, he smiled weakly, and nodded his head.   
  
He had grown since I last saw him, and he looked wiser now.   
  
"Well," I began quietly, "we each have story to tell, don't we?"   
  
"I can' stay vereh long." Pippin blurted, looking down at his feet.   
  
"I know." I replied. I beckoned him closer, and started, "I just wanted to thank you."   
  
"For wha'?" Pippin asked curiously.   
  
"You were the first member of the Fellowship to accept me." I answered.   
  
"I was either too nice, or too foolish. Gandalf said tha latteh." Pippin muttered, his smile widening.  
  
I thought back on my first night spent in Middle Earth, tied to a tree. The memory made me grin, and I looked back at Pippin.   
  
"Good luck on your journey." I wished. The smile slipped from Pippin's face. He nodded slowly, whispering something indistiguishable.   
  
He mumbled a goodbye as he edged from the room.   
  
"I'll see you when you return, then." I called. Pippin didn't answer, he just closed his eyes for a moment, and then left.   
  
Legolas came in next to bid me goodbye. I wished him luck, as I had Pippin, and then Aragorn entered.   
  
I had run out of things to say, so the both of us just remained silent, in an understood farewell. He opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut. The he nodded once to me, and walked away.   
  
Lastly came Eomer. I wasn't expecting him to visit, so he caught me off guard. He knelt by the bed, looking at me, making me feel very awkward. Finally, he said, "May your wounds mend swiftly."   
  
I sighed, "There are some hurts that can't heal."   
  
Eomer looked as if he was going to say something, but instead he held my left hand in both of his. His dark eyes locked on mine, and he replied, "Patience, then, Orthalion; there is no pain that cannot be ceased. Let time be your cure."   
  
I bowed my head, not wanting to look at his eyes. They were too intense, grief-wracked, and penetrating. I felt his hands leave mine, and then one brought my face back up to his. He smiled, and stood up.   
  
"Well, madame," he began, "we leave soon, and I should not be late. I look forward to our next meeting." Without another word, he swept into a bow, kissed my hand, and departed.   
  
I fell back on my pillow, and gazed at the ceiling. I felt as though everything capable of being thought I had already pondered. It was as if there was nothing left to consider, and wonder at.  
  
Sighing, I swung both my legs stiffly from the bed. Ioreth had supplied me with a kind of crutch, but I had never bothered with it. Today, however, I figured I might as well be bored out of my mind in different surroundings.   
  
Supporting myself on the crutch, I hobbled out to a small garden. I sat tiredly on a bench, and leaned back, my head turned up to the morning sky.   
  
It seemed so long since I had seen it above me. I was relieved now that its enormous expanse surrounded me. It was a cold morning, and I shivered a bit. As I was looking at the flowers, I heard footsteps draw near.   
  
A woman came into sight, and she spotted me right away. I guessed she was a healer, because she clucked at me for not wearing something warmer. She scuttled off and returned quickly with a blanket, and then, mumbling to herself, hurried off.   
  
I wrapped the cloth around me, and laid down on the bench, still gazing at the sky.   
  
.  
  
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was afternoon, and Ioreth was scolding me for staying from bed for so long. At her demand, I returned to my bed, and crawled in.   
  
And thus passed a week of intense boredom. On the eighth day of my stay in the House of Healing, I had a visitor.   
  
He strode in, his arm was bandaged, but he was otherwise unhurt. He grinned when he saw me, and leaned against my bed.   
  
"How have you been, then?" Merry asked.   
  
"Broken leg, otherwise, I'm fine. You?" I replied.   
  
A shadow passed over his face, and his smile flickered. Then he forced it back to its previous position, "Just my arm. And this." he added, lifting his hair from his forehead; there was a long cut from one eyebrow to the middle of his eyebrow.   
  
"Well," I began cheerfully, "that should heal just fine." Merry nodded, "So says Ioreth; along with all the other things she talks of." I chuckled, "How is Eowyn?"   
  
"Still sleeping."   
  
"I heard of your victory on the fields," I began, "bravo, Master Brandybuck."   
  
The Hobbit drew himself up proudly, but then sighed, "When do you think they will return?"   
  
I didn't need to ask who 'they' were. "Once they've caused a diversion, they'll come back, and there should be a big feast and celebrating."   
  
Merry grinned, and was about to say something, when a door slammed, and hurried footsteps echoed in the room. I gestured for Merry to draw aside the curtains. He did so, and a man caught sight of us.   
  
"Where is Captain Faramir?" He demanded.   
  
"He is still recovering. Who are you?" Merry countered.   
  
"Beregond, I have urgent news for him."  
  
"Tell it to me, and I shall tell him." Merry instructed, "Ioreth said he couldn't have any visitors."   
  
"This is not news that can be lightly carried." Beregond snapped. Merry's face darkened, "Then be gone, Faramir can not be bothered."   
  
"Have it your way, holbytla." Beregond began, "Tell Captain Faramir that orcs remain in Osgiliath, but that they are few, and can be easily defeated. Ask him if I may send some of his men out to rid them of our city. Well? What are you waiting for?"   
  
Merry nodded, and hurried out of the room.   
  
"How many orcs are there?" I asked, watching Beregond pace the room. He looked up, startled. It was obvious on his face that he thought he was alone. He stared closely at me, and then drew nearer.   
  
"Are you the other maiden-soldier?" He inquired. When I nodded, he pressed, "The one who rode a Mumak, and crawled across the Pelennor Fields with a broken leg?"   
  
"That's me." I said, trying not to sound too proud.   
  
"Truly," Beregond started, looking away, "you women can be suprising. One defeats the King of the Nazgul, and the other..." he gesutured to me.   
  
I didn't know what to say, but just then, Merry returned. Beregond straightened, and looked expectantly at Merry.   
  
"He says you have his permission," Merry reported, "but to not use many more men then their are orcs."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"It would be cowardly." Merry shrugged. Beregond, nodding, thanked Merry, bowed shortly to me, and left.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* AAAclub: Nah, not curious at all... I don't think I'll write a sequel, but nothings decided as of yet. Turn into a Mary Sue? Shame on you for even suggesting it!   
  
chibi-mairi: Thanks, I was trying to think of an idea that hadn't been used so many times you readers would flame me in protest.   
  
Aztec-Raven: Really? I feel so fuzzy and special inside. You never cried during the Return of the King movie? I bawled for the last half hour, but then again, this is coming from some who cried during the Land Before Time...  
  
Laureline: Yeah, the whole riding-on-the-leg-of-a-mumak isn't very realistic, but it beats having the protagonist faint at the beginning of the battle so the author doesn't have to write much, or making the character suddenly have super powers to defeat the enemies. 'Licky w/ her horse.' Licky. What an awesome word. 


	21. Journey to Osgiliath

Chapter Twenty-One  
  
Every day I thought of my friends, and every day I prayed to God to give them strength and hope.   
  
Faramir was getting better, and every so often, I would see him wander the gardens alone. I never spoke to him, though, because he didn't know me, and I couldn't think of anything we could talk about.   
  
Merry and I spent most of our time together; talking mostly, but a few times we taught each other games, or songs. Merry took a liking to I Spy, charades, twenty questions, Bohemian Rhapsody, and the coconut song.   
  
He showed me how to play a game similar to tag, only it wasn't as active, and was called Tig. He also taught me how to sing a few songs, and that is how we whiled away the days.  
  
Two weeks since the company left, Eowyn woke from her sleep, and joined us occasionally. Mostly, she went on walks with Faramir that lasted nearly all day.   
  
One day, after their walk, and Eowyn had went to her room, Faramir came over to us where we sat on Merry's bed. I was trying to show him how to play "Down by the Banks of the Hanky-Panky," but he was having trouble remembering the chant.   
  
We stopped when Faramir joined us, and he pulled a chair over.   
  
"Know either of you Lady Eowyn well?" he asked. We nodded, and Faramir drew in a breath, "Please, tell me about her, for she still perplexes me."   
  
The next hour was spent talking about Eowyn. I got rather bored, but patiently answered Faramir's persistent questions.   
  
.  
  
As the fourth week since the battle was nearing, I was relieved of my crutches. My leg had healed faster than I had thought possible, but, after all, this WAS Middle Earth. I was given a simple grey wool dress to wear around the establishment, because Ioreth insisted it was scandalous to only wear a nightgown when I would wander around. She removed my bandage, and I was able to walk with only a slight limp. I exercised as much as possible, trying to un-stiffen my leg.   
  
I knew I had to go to Osgiliath, and I wanted to do so quickly. In the afternoon, I set out to find the warden. I didn't search long before I found him speaking with Eowyn.   
  
The latter was gesturing angrily to her arm that was in a sling. The warden shook his head, and Eowyn stormed off.   
  
The warden turned to me, smiling calmly, "Ah, Lady Quame, is there something you desire?"   
  
"Well, I can walk now, and I was wondering if I had leave to go to the city." I replied. The warden thought for a moment, then he answered, "I suppose you could go to the city, but you must return in the evenings. You are not yet ready, I think, to leave the house fully."   
  
"It's been nearly four weeks!" I exclaimed, "I can walk fine."   
  
The warden sighed, "Have it your way, then. Tell Ioreth I bid your leave."   
  
"Thank you." I mumbled, and went down to my bed. I began packing all of my things when I felt a gaze on my back. I turned around, and smiled at Merry.   
  
He looked jealously at my bag, "Are you leaving?"   
  
I nodded. He heaved a sigh, and looked out the window, "I wish I was. I'm tired of being trapped in these walls."   
  
"Ask the warden if you can leave." I suggested. Merry barked a laugh, "Ah yes, he'll probably say I'm not well enough go on my own."   
  
"You could threaten him." I laughed. Merry chuckled, "Yes, and have the guards on me faster than you can say Brandywine."  
  
Smiling sadly, I slung my bag on my back, "I'll come to see you, but there's something I must do."   
  
"What?"   
  
"It's..."I hesitated, "complicated. I promise, though, I'll come back and tell you as soon as I can."   
  
Merry nodded understandingly. Again, I resisted the urge to hug him; he might be insulted, and that's the last thing I want him when I leave. Instead, I adopted one of Aragorn's tactics for a good, sincere adieu.   
  
I knelt down, so I was level with Merry, and gave a small grin. His eyes met mine, and a smile grew on his face. I said nothing, straightened up, and left.   
  
It was great to be on my own again. I tilted my head up and grinned at the sky. I felt safer now that I was under its blue envelopment.  
  
Continuing through the city, I watched the means of resoration it was undergoing. As I passed a group of women, the pointed at me, and whispered among themselves. I began to feel uncomfortable, and stopped, staring at the clique.   
  
The women instantly stopped their mutterings, and looked back at me. I tried to think of something clever to say to them, but settled with, "What makes me worthy of your gossip?"  
  
Most of them murmured something, and shuffled away, leaving one young woman alone, wearing a look of abandon.   
  
"You are Orthalion, the maiden soldier from the Battle ofthe Pelennor Fields?"   
  
It sounded impressive. I stopped myself from grinning, and nodded. The woman smiled, "You and the Lady Eowyn have given hope to us."   
  
I gave into the inevitable grin, but didn't know how to respond. Had Eowyn and myself started a revolution? It'd be cool if we had; something to tell the grandkids.   
  
Finally, I bid the woman a good day, and continued on my way.   
  
.  
  
It took me a little more than an hour to reach the outermost gate. I stood for a moment, looking up at the ruined doors in sorrow. They had been such beautiful doors...  
  
It looked as if they were trying to be repaired. The gaping holes had been covered with wooden slats, but there was still a long way to go before they would resemble what they had once been.   
  
Sighing, I adjusted my bag, and looked around. There was one man nearby; he was taking a nap. I didn't want to wake him, but I didn't know how else to get out.   
  
I seized the side of one of the doors, and heaved. The door didn't budge. I tugged a few more times, but nothing happened. Giving up, I went to the sleeping man, and prodded him awake.   
  
"What?" he muttered, then shook himself awake. He nodded his head once, and asked, "What can I do for you?"   
  
"I wish to leave."   
  
He looked hard at me for a moment, "Wait here." he went disappeared through a door. It was silent for awhile, and I began to wonder if he forgot me, and then I heard a loud clang, and one of the doors slowly opened. I called up a 'thank you,' and slipped out of the city...   
  
...and looked out at the field in horror.   
  
All of the men of the Rohirrim, and of Gondor, had taken the bodies of their men, but the orcs had left their kin to rot in the sun.   
  
Flies swarmed everywhere, and the carcasses of orcs, Mumakil, men of the Haradrim, and other foul beasts lay decomposing. It smelled disgusting despite the faint wind blowing from the west.   
  
I was tempted to go back to the city, but hard resolve stopped me. I held my sleeve up to my nose and mouth, and began the long walk to Osgiliath. By twilight, I still had not reached the dead city, and the stench was becoming unbearable. Annoyance settled in as I realized I wouldn't make it to Osgiliath until morning. But I wanted to spend a night on the fields of the Pelennor as much as I wanted both legs amputated and my fingernails removed with flaming hot pincers.   
  
Thus, I decided to continue in the dark. As the moon was acsending in the sky, I finally stopped. I was right outside the city, and the nearest corpse was a little less than a hundred feet away.   
  
Dead-tired, I curled up against a fallen pillar, and went to sleep.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
.  
  
chibi-mairi: Yey. Wouldn't it be boring if someone acted the same towards everyone? Food for thought...yum.  
  
Lauren: Thanks, but I don't quite understand what you meant, because of the sentance fragment. Ah well.  
  
AAAclub: Lol, you're welcome. You've probably seen the marathon by now, was it awesome? Did they show the theatrical versions or the extended editions of the FotR and the TT? Lengthy chapters? I'll see what I can do...  
  
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: What a nifty name. Don't worry about the whole palantir being in Barad Dur conflict. I've got it figured all out.   
  
Laureline: Hmm. I still like 'licky.' It makes me chuckle. 


	22. Of Two Faints and a Palantir

Chapter Twenty-Two  
  
I awoke with the sunrise. My back was sore was leaning against stone and carrying my heavy bag, and my left leg hurt from strain.   
  
Nonetheless, I clambored to my feet, and looked around.   
  
Osgiliath was a big place. It may have been in ruins, but it was still freakin' huge. I sat down on the pillar, and dug around my bag, withdrawing one of the palantiri.   
  
I glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. Actually, it was a stupid thing to do, since the whole place seemed to be abandoned. I unwrapped the palantir, and held it tightly, trying to bend its power to my will.   
  
The world was black, but out of the jet a faint light grew, until I was once again in the stone room. I began to feel the pull of the palantir, and it was as if I was moving, but not with my own will. The seeing stone was guiding me.   
  
Feeling fatigue draw near, I opened my eyes, observing my surroundings. I was no longer by the pillar. I was standing in a large, stately looking room, undoubtably that of royalty. I knew the room was below the king's chamber, but I didn't know how to get there.   
  
I felt the pulling of the palantir, and followed it until I stood in the far corner of the room. I knelt, and examined the floor. There didn't seem to be any markings that a trapdoor ever existed. The tugging increased to discomfort as I looked around wildly for a way to get to the room.   
  
There was nothing. Panic overcame me as the pulling changed from gentle to a strong yank. My head pounded, and my whole body felt wrong. I went down of my hands and knees as the palantir persisted its drawing. It became hard to breath, and I felt as if I were dying. My vision darkened, and I slumped against the wall in a faint.   
  
.  
  
When I awoke, I was in almost complete darkness. My head still hurt, but the pulling had subsided. A ways off, I could see the source of light; it was coming from a trapdoor on the ceiling.   
  
I stood, and walked towards it, and the tugging began again. I whirled around, and followed the current until my head hit something hanging from the ceiling. My hands groped the air, finally clasping a spherical object suspended by a chain basket. I lifted it from the net, and held it.   
  
Grinning tiredly, I slipped it in my pack with the other two. Now my pack felt as heavy as four college textbooks. Bent a bit, I turned back to the trapdoor, and approached it. I threw my pack up through it, and heaved myself back into the room.   
  
I concluded that when I had fallen against the wall, I had depressed the trigger to open the door. The answer seemed a bit Indiana Jones-ish, but I didn't care.   
  
Shouldering my bag, I wandered out of the room, and back into the waning sunlight. It was nearly nightfall; I must have been unconscious for a long while.   
  
In the distance, I could see the white towers of Icthelion gleaming in the sun. I smiled, and headed towards them.   
  
I walked for awhile, and then stopped to rest. My eyes grazed the Mountains of Shadow, and saw Mt. Doom teeming with fire beyond.   
  
I dug one of the palantir I had just recovered out of my bag, and turned it over in my hands. It was so perfectly round and smooth. . .  
  
With no warning, I was jerked into blackness, my open eyes saw nothing, and my heart nearly stopped.   
  
Pulsing and revolving, the firey eye grew. Pain seered through me, and I tried desperatley to drop it, but I couldn't. Now flames filled my vision, and in the middle resided that hideous obsidian pupil. It roved back and forth, finally focusing on me, and the pain increased.   
  
Faintly, I felt the eath shake, and the gaze of the eyes snapped from me. The pain decreased slightly, but I couldn't release the palantir.   
  
Then it happened.   
  
A scream of two notes reverated through me. One was ear splittingly high, and the other was almost inaudibly deep. It quavered and shrieked, and there was nothing I could do to make it stop, for when it began, unimaginable pain wracked my body, and I felt as if my very insides were on fire.   
  
And then it ceased. The screech wailed to silence, and I knew no more.   
  
.  
  
"Lady El!"   
  
The whisper was in the distance, as if there was a massive wall between my caller and me. I tried to open my eyes, but it hurt to move. My whole body ached so much, I wondered if I was even alive.   
  
"El!"   
  
The caller was closer now, but still sounded distorted. I strained my eyelids to open, and squinted through my lashes. The sun beat down mercilessly into my eyes, and a dark figure loomed over me.   
  
"Eleanor!" It cried, louder this time, and it was finally clear. I felt two hands wrap around either of my shoulders and shake me.   
  
It was a gentle shake, but my limbs screamed with pain as the action persisted. A shriek escaped my throat, and the shaking ended abrubtly.   
  
"I- I'm sorry." the voice stammered. This time I recognized him. I forced my eyes to open all the way. Looking blearily into his anxious face, I tried to smile. It must have looked like a wince, because- "Am I still hurting you?" Eomer asked, yanking his hands off my shoulders.   
  
"That," I began weakly, "was an attempted smile."   
  
Eomer's concerned countanences flickered, but he maintained a look of worry. "You were lying in a crumpled heap; I had thought you were-"   
  
"Just unconsious." I assured him.   
  
"What happened?"   
  
I told him. I told him about the palantiri, and my finding one in the concealed room, and how I had seen Sauron.  
  
Eomer remained silent after I finished, and I wondered if he even believed me. I timidly asked him what was on my mind. Clasping my hand in both of his, he replied, "I believe every word you have ever told me, and my silence was from awe. El," he continued, helping me to my feet, "you have seen, done, and experienced more things than any woman in Middle Earth, save perhaps my sister, even dreamed of doing. I hold you in the highest of praise."   
  
Flattered, but trembling with pain and fatigue, I lowered myself back to the ground where this cursed thing called gravity wouldn't affect me as much. Eomer knelt down to my level, "Come, let me help you to my horse, and we shall return to Minas Tirith."   
  
We did just that. With every jolt of the horse, my muscles ached, but I tried not to show it. As we arrived at the gates, they opened before Eomer even had to call out.   
  
"I shall take you back to the House of Healing." Eomer declared, guiding his horse through the city.   
  
"No," I protested, "I will be fine; I never want to have to stay there again."   
  
"But-" he objected. I shook my head defiantly, and he fell silent. Seeing two women bow their heads as we passed, I remembered what must have happened.   
  
"The Ring has been destroyed, yes?" I asked.   
  
"Ay, and Sauron has been defeated by none other than a Hobbit and his servant." Eomer replied eagerly, "It was a glorious victory, but marred by orcs and filth. The two hobbits are in the House of Healing, and Master Took and Master Brandybuck are with Aragorn. His coronation will be soon," he babbled, faster, and faster, "and there is rumor it will also be the day his true love arrives in this city. They say she is more beautiful than the star she was named after."   
  
"Where are we headed, then?" I interrupted.   
  
"To the citadel, where the others await."   
  
The rest of the trip was Eomer's giddy yammering. He told me about how Faramir and Eowyn wished to marry, of the Eagles that came at the Dagorlad outside the Morannon, and how he, Eomer, was to become king of the Riddermark upon his return to Edoras.   
  
"We all have felt so blessed these past days," he concluded, "but I wish that-" Eomer faltered, and as he did so, we arrived at the stairs leading up to the battlement before the citedel.   
  
I slid off the horse, and clutched the wall for strength. My legs still felt weak, and I wondered if returning to the house of healing wasn't such a bad idea after all.   
  
"Shall I carry you?" Eomer inquired, and without waiting for an answer, he caught me up with one hand behind my knees and the other supporting my back, he carried my up the steps.   
  
I've never been carried before, and I only wish I wasn't in as much pain as I was, or else I might have enjoyed it more.   
  
At the top of the steps, he set me down, but kept one arm around me to help me walk. We entered the citedel, and there sat Aragorn regally on the throne, bending down, and talking with Faramir, who sat at the steward's chair. Off to the side was Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Sam, and Pippin, all talking in low voices.   
  
As the door closed behind us, Aragorn looked, and smiled broadly.   
  
"Orthalion," he called, descending the steps to greet me. Still using Eomer as support, I took a few steps forward, grinning wide.   
  
Legolas, Gimli, and the Hobbits drew near. Merry and Pippin both hurrying to hug me.   
  
Oh, hugging a Hobbit was ten times as wonderful as I thought it would be. My pain vanished momentarily as I knelt and the three of us embraced, and I felt warm and fuzzy all over.   
  
Then I straightened up, and smiled at Sam. He looked uneasy and worried. After looking around for a moment, I asked, "Where's Frodo?"   
  
"Gandalf's with him, but he still sleeps." Sam replied knowingly.   
  
"And Eowyn?"   
  
"She is down in the Rath Dinen," Faramir answered, standing, "to grieve for Theoden King."   
  
With Eomer's arm still around me, I felt him sag slightly, but remain silent.   
  
Just then, the door flung open, and Mithrandir strode in. His eyes latched onto me, and hastened to my side.   
  
"El, or are you Orthalion?" He began snappishly, "I have been searching for you all morning." I was about to give a scathing reply about being unconscious, but he continued, "There is a palantir at Barad Dur, and you must go there as soon as possible."   
  
"How?" I demanded.   
  
"Meneldor the Swift has agreed to take you, now follow me." Without another word, he whirled around and left. I turned and looked hopelessly at the rest.   
  
"Hurry, El, he is waiting." Legolas called. Snapping out of my phase, I followed after the wizard, limping slightly from the waining pain.   
  
My aching was forgotten, however, as soon as I saw where Mithrandir had led me.   
  
On the battlement he stood, at the very edge, where perched two enormous sleek eagles; Noble looking and proud.   
  
"This is Meneldor," the wizard said, gesturing to the smaller of the two, "now mount him and he will take to the remains of Barad Dur. I will follow behind on Gwaihir. Hurry!"   
  
Confused and tired, I did as he told, and gripped the feathers of the eagle tightly. The eagle took off, beginning the most uncomfortable and terryifying hours of my life.   
  
The ground was hundreds of feet below, and the wind stung my eyes. I felt dizzy and sick, and my fingers grew numb from grasping the feathers. I shut my eyes tight, and found my happy place.   
  
Ironically enough, it was flying my airplane. Swooping in and out of clouds, secure in the seat, with the hum of the engine throbbing with my heart. Safety. Ah, blissful sanctuary from the wind and world below.   
  
Meneldor gave a piercing scream, jolting me from my happy lapse. I forced my tearing eyes open, squinting down again.   
  
No longer was the ground a green shade. It was black, grey, and in some places, glowing red-gold. The sky was crimson and ebony, and the horizon was rimmed with evil-looking mountains.   
  
Mordor. .  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
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AAAclub: That sucks, definately. My parents have deprived me of many a lovely things. Ah, not that blank. To be blank would be to leave a blank review. Hmmm. That would really confuse me....  
  
chibi-mairi: Tig. Ah, what a wonderful game that is. Couldn't you just see the two of them parading around Minas Tirith with a group of women behind them picketing sign "Votes for Women!" Hehe. Votes for women, step in time, votes for women step in time, never need a reason never need a rhyme, votes for women, step in time! OK! Now that I got THAT out of my system, I'll be sane for a few days longer...  
  
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Yep, it's Elvish. Or is it Elven? Gah, who knows. I think I'm going to have Eleanor asked Aragorn what it means in one of these chapters, just so everyone knows, but it's not that big of a deal. Nor is it insulting. What a fun trick! An Elf or Aragorn gives someone a pretty-sounding Elvish/en name, only to have it mean 'idiot' or pompous.' Hehe, when does the fun end?! 


	23. One More Down, Two More to Go

Chapter Twenty-Three  
  
Fright overcame me, even though sense kept reminding myself that Sauron was gone. With no warning, Meneldor swept into a dive that would have looked spectacular, I'm sure, had I been watching from the ground, instead of on his back.   
  
The ground rushed to meet us, and the eagle landed jarringly on a jagged rock. Gwaihir descended, and Mithrandir dismounted, looking expectantly at me.   
  
"Where is it?" He asked.   
  
"I don't-" I began angrily, but suddenly, the familiar pulling started up. "This way." I interrupted myself, climbing down from the rock.   
  
It was unbearably hot. Waves from the ground wafted up, distorting objects and giving them a sinister look. Shuddering, I stepped gingerly onto the black ground. It was hard and sharp feeling, but I ignored it. The tugging was drawing me north, towards the fallen tower.   
  
Yes, yes, closer towards the kill-zone, please, the sarcastic voice of sanity was whispering to me. I ignored it, and maintained a steady gait.   
  
Mt. Doom continued its exhales of lava and smoke, shaking the ground unnervingly.   
  
Nearer and nearer grew the remains of Barad-Dur, and even in defeat, it eminated evil and hate. I heard Mithrandir's footsteps softly following my own, and I could feel his expectant gaze locked on me.   
  
The bag on my shoulders seemed even heavier than before, and I marveled how just two palantiri could feel so cumbersome.   
  
The current was strong now, and it dragged me to the very edge of the wreckage, where it grew even more forceful.   
  
"Here." I directed, falling to my knees with the weight of my pack and the pulling. The ground was still hot, but very solid. The tugging increased, and I slung off my bag and supported myself with my hands.   
  
Mithrandir was at my side, kneeling on the ground and looking anxiously at me. Then he began to mutter something in another tongue, and the pulling grew slightly more gentle.   
  
Struck by an idea, I pulled out both palantiri, and held one in my hands loosely, concentrating on the palantir below the rock.   
  
Heat seared my hands, and I dropped the sphere in pain. Like a magnet, both palantiri rolled together, and began to radiate a white-red glow. The part of my brain I had used to control the palantiri felt as if it had wrapped itself around the rest of my brain, and was draining all my energy on something.   
  
My sight went black, although my eyes were open and I was consious. Out of the darkness, a thin grey fissure appeared, and split into two, which split again, and soon my whole sight was like a silver spiderweb of cracks.   
  
With a sound of shattering glass, my sight returned, and when I looked down, there was a crater of broken rock, and in the center, lay the palantir, like an egg in a nest. The other two palantiri had rolled off to the side, and were now black as they had ever been.   
  
I gently scooped the sphere from the rock, and held it tightly, looking up at Mithrandir. I was suprised to find him smiling.   
  
"Eleanor, what exactly are you not capable of?"   
  
Not knowing how to respond to this, I merely grinned, wrapped all the palantiri in separate cloth, and placed them in my bag.   
  
.  
  
As I squinted my eyes open, Minas Tirith was close. I couldn't have been more grateful if I had just realized the world as I knew it was going to be populated solely by Hobbits.   
  
Meneldor landed with a thump on the wall of the battlement, and I tumbled off quickly, dragging my bag behind me from the weight. Mithrandir remained by the eagles, speaking to them softly in their own language. Deciding to leave them alone, I hurried to the citedel. It was nightfall, and light flickered in the windows.   
  
I flung one of the doors open, singing, "I'm back!"   
  
All eyes turned to me, and I felt my face get hot from embarassment. It wasn't just my friends, as I expected. But then there's that old saying my uncle Vern used to say, 'when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me,' and it still held true. My friends were present, but so were all the highest guards of the city and their wives, sitting at a table full of food, and Aragorn was standing holding his goblet high as if he had been in the middle of making a toast.  
  
"Come join us, El." Legolas invited, breaking the awkward silence. Still red in the face, I lugged my bag over and plopped down in a chair next to Pippin and Gimli.   
  
When Aragorn finished his toast, and everyone continued eating, Pippin leaned over, and whispered, "Thanks."   
  
"For what?" I asked curiously. Pippin reddened, "Earlier, Merry talked me into eatin' one of those," he pointed generally to a plate of small yellow pods with black speckles on it, "and it was so horrible tastin' I spat it back on my plate. Evereh'one was starin' a' me, and Strider tried to divert the attention from me by makin' a toast, bu' then you came in."   
  
"Ah." I laughed, tucking my napkin in my lap, "I guess I won't be eating one of those anytime soon, then."   
  
Pippin grinned, and helped himself to another plate of mushrooms. Still smiling, I looked around the table, and in return, a few guards stared stonily back.   
  
With my humor waning, my gaze wandered to where Eomer and Faramir were talking. The former looked up, grinned my way, and turned back to his discussion.   
  
When all the food was cleared away, and the goblets were refilled with wine, the buzz of conversations died, resulting in everyone in silence looking around, waiting for something to happen.   
  
There was the sound of a door opening, and every bored eye targeted the source. In strolled four men, each carrying an instrument of some kind.   
  
Conversations started up again as the men started playing a cheerful sounding song. I glanced over at where Eowyn and Faramir were sitting. The two, talking in low voices, stood up, and walked away from the table to where the musicians played. The couple began to dance lively steps, and a few other guards and their wives followed suit. I smiled, watching them twirl and move, with expressions of such content on their faces.   
  
The next song was something like a waltz, and Merry got up from his seat, and walked over to me.   
  
"Will you dance with me?" He inquired solemnly. Grinning wider, I nodded, and what ensued proved difficult, but no doubt entertaining for the others.   
  
While I, bent over, and Merry, wearing such a dignified countenance as he trodded on my feet, we 'glided' across the floor to a tune straight from another world. The experience was truly something no dance instructor could have prepared me for. When the song ended, we both sat back down, and watched the others. As the music continued to play, I danced with Aragorn, Eomer, Legolas, Pippin, and then Merry again.  
  
One by one, the guards and their wives trickled out, until only Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, Eomer, Eowyn, Faramir, Sam, the musicians, and I remained.   
  
I got up, and wandered to the door, with vague thoughts of seeing if Mithrandir was still out conversing with the eagles. As I closed the door behind me, I was glad to still hear the strains of music from within. Mithrandir had gone, as had the eagles, I noted, meandering to the edge of the battlement, and looking down at the dark city.   
  
The night was cloudy, and the moon was but a disc of white haze. I looked up at it, thinking about the future. What awaited me in years to come?   
  
A hand rested itself on my shoulder, making me shriek, jerk, and whirl around. Eomer was looking startled at me, "Forgive me, El, I did not mean to scare you."   
  
"Next time tell me when you're behind me." I gasped, feeling my heart rate lower to normal.   
  
"My apologies," Eomer repeated, "what is on your mind?"   
  
"The future."   
  
"As is mine."   
  
I turned back to look at the horizon, "What do you see?"   
  
"I must return with my men to the Hall of Meduseld, to help my own people gain back our rightful land. And you?"   
  
It sounded so noble, I felt inferior when I replied, "Find the last two palantiri, and find a place to wander or live for the rest of my life."   
  
"You have no home?" Eomer asked, concerned.   
  
"No." I replied, the weight of the truth smothering me again. It was silent for a while, and I tilted my head to look back up at the moon.   
  
"You will be always welcome in Rohan," Eomer began. I heard him inhale deeply, and the continue, "I had hoped..." but then he trailed off.   
  
Curiously, I turned around. "What?" In the faint light of the moon, I could see Eomer redden.   
  
"I had hoped," He started again, but then paused, "that is to say...Forgive me, but there seems to be no other way to put it. El, I love you. I've loved you since I first saw you at Helm's Deep, coming out to greet Lord Aragorn. I wish-" he cut himself off, seeing the expression on my face.   
  
I was in shock. I liked Eomer. I liked him alot. But did I love him? I looked back at his anxious face, trying to organize thoughts that refused to do any such thing.   
  
"Since I already seem to have spoken out of line, one more action can do no harm." Eomer sighed, drawing me close and kissing me swiftly on the lips. Without another word, he walked hurriedly away.   
  
I remained standing there, with my thoughts so hopelessly jumbled, I had no idea how long I had been ruminating over what had happened.   
  
Exhaling slowly, I turned around, and re-entered the citadel. Aragorn and Faramir were the only ones in the room now, and both looked up from their discussion when I closed the door behind me.   
  
"Are you ill?" Aragorn asked, standing up. Seeing my blank expression, he supported his question, "You're pale, and look lost."   
  
"Oh," I replied, quietly, "no, I'm fine. Just...tired."   
  
Aragorn muttered something to Faramir, who nodded. The former advanced on me, but first picked up my bag still under the chair I had sat at.   
  
"Come, I'll show you to your room."   
  
He did just that, and as soon as I laid down, I fell instantly asleep.   
  
.  
  
When I awoke the next morning, I realized that the room contained not one bed, but two. Eowyn was sleeping still on the far side of the room, so I quietly got out of bed, and searched for my bag.   
  
Aragorn had set it by the foot of the bed, and I dug around in it, withdrawing the blue dress, and changing into it quickly. It was nice to wear it again, and I felt much more free in it rather than when I had worn the heavy wool dress.   
  
I slipped out of the room, and down the long corrider. I heard voices in the distance, and tried to reach them.   
  
I ended up in the main room, recognizing the voices of Aragorn, Mithrandir, and Eomer around the corner.   
  
"-and the messages have been sent." Mithrandir finished.   
  
I stopped dead in my tracks. If Mithrandir saw me, he would spring something on me, or say something...not very nice, as usual. I decided to wait until he had gone to enter the room.   
  
"Thank you," I heard Aragorn say, "Eomer, are you well? You have not spoken much all morning."   
  
"I cannot say, my lord, my health is fine, but my heart...I do not know what to make of it."   
  
It was silent for a moment, then Eomer continued reluctantly, "Yesternight, I told Lady Eleanor that I love her. Her reaction," he paused, "was not as I had hoped it would be."  
  
I suddenly felt ashamed. Here I was, listening in on a conversation not meant for me to hear, while Eomer's heart was pressumably breaking. I turned on my heel to return to my room, and perhaps ask Eowyn what I might do.   
  
However, the sconce on the wall had other ideas. It was head height, and I knocked right into it. I let out a yell of indignant pain before I could stop myself. The talking ceased immediately.  
  
Rubbing my forehead, I walked into the room, and gestured to the wall, "The sconce caught me by suprise."   
  
Aragorn chuckled, but the other two remained silent. Eomer, sweeping his gaze passed me, stood up, and strode out of the room.   
  
"Eleanor," Mithrandir barked, "what are you doing in that ridiculous dress? Go change into that ugly grey one; you have a long day ahead of you."   
  
"What am I to do, pray tell?" I demanded, my mood declining rapidly.   
  
"You must go find the last palantiri. Meneldor has agreed to take you to the last two locations."   
  
Oh joy.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
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AAAclub: No pick-axes required luckily. Evil tools...grrr. Confusing me yet? Yea, verily, yea. Hehe.   
  
Laureline: Hmmm, do you think I've made Gandalf into too evil of a character? It always seemed to me that he liked certain people, but for others, he immediatley chose not to favor. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's me.   
  
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Elvish... Got it. Wait. Yes, it's off to Mordor we go! Yey. Funny you should mention that El settle down with a husband and start a family.... Death to Mary-Sue fanfics! Yey. Actually, I've started writing a revenge of the Mry-Sues, where the Fellowship has to one by one shake off or kill any Mary-Sues that wander into the Middle Earth. It's only going to be a one chapter fic, I think, but I will load it one of these days.... 


	24. Seeking

Author's note: So incredibly sorry it took so long to update this, but I have been busy all weekend. Also, a lovely sidenote, the original chapter was nine pages long. That is, until I accidently threw it away. Don't know how, but the original is lost to me forever, so I had to retype this up the way I remembered it. Again, my apologies. Now, let's get on with this chapter before I accidently destroy it somehow.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four  
  
Ont he battlements, again Meneldor perched waiting. Now donned in my ugly wool dress, I shouldered the bag Mithrandir had given me to hold the palantiri in, and a small supply of food.   
  
I sighed. I didn't want to do this. Not right now, at any rate. I was tired, and I had problems concerning Eomer that had to be dealt with.   
  
Nevertheless, I clambored up on the great eagle, and gave a wave goodbye to Mithrandir.   
  
"All you need to do is tell Meneldor where you wish to go. He understands our language, but cannot speak it himself." Mithrandir informed me. Nodding, I reluctantly spurred the eagle up to the sky.   
  
When Minas Tirith was on the horizon, it dawned on me that I had no clue where to go. I asked Meneldor to land somewhere for a few minutes. The eagle complied, and alighted in a tree.   
  
Not quite what I had in mind, but I wasn't about to tell Meneldor to find a safer place. I leaned against the trunk, and held on of the palantiri in both hands, concentrating on the first location.   
  
Trees. All around me. Where, where, where? I pestered my mind. A soft hissing sound began to grow in my mind, but it had a rythmn. It would start slow, get louder, and then grow silent again, and then start all over again, each time getting louder.   
  
Gradually, I began to hear syllables in with each gust. I focused on them, and eventually heard a repetetive, Rhosgobel. Rhosgobel. Rhosgobel.   
  
I withdrew my mind from the palantir, and the sound stopped. I took a few tired breaths, and felt my subconscious plunge back into the palantir.   
  
The last location. Murky blue-brown enveloped me. Sun filtered through the water toward me, and sand stretched all around. The location of the palantir in Osgiliath merely came to me. The location of the Rhosgobel palantir was whispered to me.   
  
However, the palantir of Moraelin bit its information into me. It felt as though sharp teeth of knowledge clamped onto my mind, and the pain, though brief, was excruciating.   
  
I nearly dropped the palantir, but checked myself. I now had a mild headache, but at least I knew where I was going. Rising to my feet on the branch, I went back to Meneldor, and asked him if he knew of the two locations.   
  
He said nothing, but somehow I knew his answer was yes. Grinning, I climbed on his back, and shut my eyes as we ascended back to the sky.   
  
All day and all night we flew. My fingers grew numb from the wind, but I refused to pity myself. God knows I've done enough of that in the past few months.   
  
Instead, I tried to organize my feeling for Eomer.   
  
As I stated before, I liked him. He was everything a woman might look for in a man; kind, brave, strong, smart, handsome. I thought about times we had had with each other. How one time when he visited me in the House of Healing, we talked for hours, until Ioreth shooed him out. How he had found me in Osgiliath. How he had comforted me when Galawe left for the Grey Havens.   
  
He respected me, and I him. He cared about me, and I him. He loved me. And I? Did I love him? I drew up an image in my mind of him. Of his dark, intense eyes, his amiable face, and the way he held himself proudly.   
  
I did love him. I smiled, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Then a horrible thought struck me:   
  
Was he supposed to fall in love with someone else? I wracked my mind, trying to recall a name, but nothing came. It didn't quench my worry, if anything, it made me feel even worse.   
  
He had to marry someone else. By all principles, he should have a queen and an heir. Had Tolkien given him someone? I prayed the matter would have slipped the man's mind, but I knew it probably hadn't.   
  
After all, this is coming from a man who has included the geneology of Samwise in appendix C.  
  
I decided to rest my mind of the matter, and think of other things.   
  
.  
  
The early afternoon of the next day, I felt Meneldor dip down, and head for the ground. I exhaled a sigh of relief, and when he landed, I jumped off hurriedly.   
  
After munching on some of the food in my pack, I looked around. We were at the edge of a forest, and a stream was running towards the forest. Gingerly, I entered the forest. All was silent, save the stream's trickling waters. I walked further in, trying to feel the pull of the palantir.   
  
It took awhile, but finally, I felt the gentle current, and followed it. It lead me to a small clearing, and in the middle resided a giant tree.   
  
Its trunk was enormous, and it stretched up to the sky. But its naked branches clutched for leaves that would never grow again; the tree was dead. A long black stripe raced from near the top to the first split of limbs. Lightning, no doubt.   
  
A feeling of remorse filled me, but I drew nearer to it, trying to find the source of the tugging.   
  
There, at the base of the dead tree, glinted a dark smooth surface. I knelt, and traced me fingers over it. Here it was.   
  
Pausing for a moment, I began to dig. I dug all around the sphere until I was able to free it from the earth that encase most of it.   
  
I leaned against the tree as I wiped the dirt off of it. A movement in the distance caught my attention, and I stood up straight, looking hard for an explanation.   
  
"Who's there?" I called weakly.   
  
"You have no right to ask that question of me while you are in my wood." replied a voice so nearby I jumped, and searched wildly for the speaker.   
  
"I am Eleanor." I announced, "Now will you please tell me who you are?"   
  
A figure stepped from behind a tree ouside of the clearing, and advanced towards me.   
  
He was dressed in all browns, and had a short beard of silver hair with dark brown hairs striving to be seen. He had long grey brown hair, and a wrinkled face, reminding me of tree bark. In one hand he held a long thin staff carved of burl wood. He was slightly bent, as if years of walking and bearing heavy burdens and problems had beaten him down.   
  
"I," he began, in a thin, bu rich sounding voice, "am Radagast the Brown. What brings an unattended young woman among these trees? Do you search for death?"   
  
His bright eyes rested on my hands, and then he exhaled slowly, "No... You are she, then. The Orthalion; Gatherer of the Palantiri. Yes, I wondered when I might be seeing you again."   
  
"Again?" I demanded, taken aback. A small smile cracked on his leathery face, and he nodded, drawing closer. Involuntarily, I found myself backing away.   
  
"Yes, Eleanor. I saw you the first day you entered this world. I made sure you lived to see more days."   
  
"Whoa," I began, "back up, please, I'm confused."   
  
"It is not every day one can fall from the sky and not be wounded in the least." Radagast supplied.   
  
Dawning whacked me in the head, "It was you, then? You saved my life?"   
  
The wizard nodded, and gestured to the palantir, "And now you have but one more to find. Go now; do not waste time with the jabberings of an old man. I have done my part, and my conscience is at peace."   
  
I looked down at the palantir, and then back at Radagast.   
  
"Thank you," I said, "I am indebted to you."  
  
"No," Radagast protested, "save your breath, now leave Rhosgobel, and find the last of the seven."   
  
It was my turn to nod, and, feeling uneasy about the whole thing, I hurried back to Meneldor.  
  
.  
  
Moraelin had me worried. The way I had learned where the palantir was questionably painful. Meneldor had flown alongside the Hithaeglir, and now we were far north. The wind was colder, and the clouds were a steely grey.   
  
It was early evening when Meneldor finally perched on a small thick tree on the side of a large expanse of silvery blue water.   
  
Hesitantly, I climbed down, and looked at the lake.   
  
It had a definate evil look to it. The ground surrounding it was a combination of sand and sharp grey rocks, and the middle of the lake looked fathomlessly deep.   
  
And I had to find the palantir. Oh lovely. Shivering, I removed my dress and shoes, so I was only wearing my underdress, and then I waded into the water.   
  
Oh God, was it cold! The icy water lapped around my ankles, and I felt goosebumps cover my skin. I forced myself to wade deeper, until the water was to my knees. The cold wind now bit harder than before, and I paused, sensing something.   
  
It was an evil presence. I wasn't sure what, but I knew it was bad. I began to feel as if I was being drawn toward the devilry, and fear gripped my heart.   
  
It was forcing me to walk, I tried to resist, but then it grew only stronger. Another gust of wind slapped my face, and cleared my mind for a moment.   
  
I wasn't being pulled toward evil, it was the tug of the palantir. Feeling like an idiot, I followed it. The presence still hung over me, though, and I noticed that even when the air was still, the lake rippled from movement.   
  
By now, I was so far into the lake, I was swimming. The coldness slowed me down, and I began to fear hypothermia.   
  
However, I knew the palantir was near, and with a sigh, I realized I would have to submerge myself in the water to reach it.   
  
Taking a deep, reluctant breath, I dove under the surface, and felt around with both hands desperately.   
  
Twice I returned for air, but on the third try, my hand brushed over something smooth, round, but warm.   
  
The ground around the object shuddered, and snapped my hand away. I nearly inhaled a lungful of water, but stopped myself. My other hand grazed over a spherical cool smooth object, and I seized it, hurrying back to the surface.   
  
Gasping for air, I held up the palantir, and then wondered what I had initially touched. I felt something slip over my foot. Spazzing, I swam frantically back to the shore.   
  
I did the mistake of look back. A multitude of thick grey tentacles were lashing towards me, and my panic increased my speed.   
  
I thrashed out of the water, yanked up my dress and bag, and leapt onto to Meneldor. The eagle also seemed frightened, and soared up into the sky.   
  
Tentacles snaked up to reach us, but we were too high. Amid the limbs, I saw a massive head with two luminous unblinking eyes perhaps only a bit larger than a palantir...  
  
.  
  
The wind sliced through my thin wet underdress, and seemed to freeze my joints. When Meneldor felt we were far enough away from the lake, he landed long enough so I could put on my dress, and secure the palantir in my sack.   
  
The journey back to Minas Tirith took two days, and I thought more than I have ever thought before.   
  
I concluded that if Eomer's destined wife ever appeared, I would disappear somewhere and let them live their pre-arranged life. My heart would probably break, but at least I wouldn't be interfering with fate.   
  
It was afternoon when I caught sight of Minas Tirith. It looked better than ever, with its white walls and towers gleaming in the sunlight. Everything seemed so perfect, and I couldn't wait to be back again in the citadel with the others.   
  
But that's when I saw it.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
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Laureline: Lindir..Hmm, I don't remember him...Was he the Christ-like figure, or am I thinking of some other random Elf? Lol, I don't believe there are night-clubs in Middle Earth, but you never know with those Gondorians...  
  
Lady Phoenix Slytherin: Yey. Sorry this chapter took so long.   
  
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Or does Eomer marry Lothiriel? It has the makings of a lame soap opera...  
  
chibi-mairi: Hit herself in the head with a ski she was wearing... I'm intrigued.  
  
Lady LeBeau: Alrighty, you left me a lot of reviews, so I'll start at the beginning to answer them. I hope the answer to why she survived the fall satisfied you. If not...Hmmm. I was under the impression the wraiths seemed to be everywhere. There's nine of them, and they all are sneaky-like. About the wench-thing. Yeah, I don't like it either, but it is insulting, so I hope I got the point across. Yey. My Elves-Are-Plants theory is appreciated! Goosey-goosey Gandy. Gandy is just too much fun to say. Submerged in the River of Bruinen? Sounds like an interesting story to tell the grandkids. Goblin attacks seem to be a requirment for every plotline. Think about it... Labyrinth, Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit, Princess and the Goblin. We like Elves in the movies because a certain one just looked so hot it was hard to ignore or be annoyed by him. Celeborn's always odd! Alright, but Gandalf did a color transformation to Mithrandir. Hopefully those MAry-Sue vibes will be the only ones you get, but I make no guaruntees.  
  
AAAclub: You're not going to throw fruit at me? Yey. Don't worry, I can't write romance, so I try to avoid it whenever possible. This fic won't turn into a love story. No fear of that happening. Ever. As to the question of whether she was going to fall in love with him, hopefully it was answered, and if it wasn'y, I suggest you reread this chapter. 


	25. Return of Many Things

Alright, I hadn't planned on updating this soon, but AAAclub, your pleading was effective, so here is:  
  
Chapter Twenty-Five  
  
There, innocently, among the other clouds, formed a cloud-ring. My heart flipped as I wondered if flying through it would take me back to my home in Vermont.   
  
But then I wondered what I would be returning to. Earth. A world so normal and practical. Completley void of all the things that made Middle Earth so incredible.   
  
My family. They probably thought I was dead. My friends. But they seemed so shallow and ignorant compared to who(m?) I knew in Middle Earth, or just Gondor alone. My heart felt torn in two, and I watched the cloud ring grow larger.   
  
When I had flown through the other one in my plane, the Raven had disappeared, because airplanes don't exist in Middle Earth. But giant eagles don't exist in any part of Earth. Would Meneldor simply vanish?   
  
But I didn't really belong in this world. I was merely jolted into it my some strange force. Earth was my home...   
  
I glanced at Minas Tirith, glowing in the afternoon sun. It was so beautiful. My eyes returned to the coud ring, which had begun to shrink. This was it. I had to make a decision that would determine the rest of my life.   
  
My mind had already made its mind up. I closed my eyes briefly, and then smiled slightly as I watched the ring shift into just another cloud.   
  
I turned my gaze resolutedly to the battlements of Minas Tirith, that were swiftly drawing nearer.   
  
When Meneldor landed, I leapt off, hugged him, thanking him again for his services, and dashed into the citadel.   
  
Aragorn jumped as the door banged open, but smiled widely when he saw me. Faramir sat at his dais, but stood when I entered.   
  
I hugged Aragorn briefly, and then asked, "Where are the others?"   
  
"Merry and Pippin are in the House of Healing with Sam and a recently awakened Frodo. Legolas and Gimli have gone on another one of their walks, Mithrandir failed to tell me of his plans, and I believe you will find Eomer in the Rath Dinen."   
  
I thanked him, and left the room. I wasn't quite sure where the Rath Dinen was, but I had a good idea. Passed a few doorways, down several halls, and one short staircase, I found the grand doors of the Rath Dinen. I pulled one of them open, and entered.   
  
Silence surrounded me like a blanket. I wandered among the tombs, looking for a live person, but found none.   
  
"Eomer?" I whispered, my voice echoing off every wall.   
  
That creeped me out. I hurried back throught the door and into the main room, not wanting to return to the Rath Dinen. Aragorn and Faramir continued their conversation, and I flung the citadel doors open to look outside.   
  
And there he was. He stood at the end of the battlement, gazing into the horizon. Slowly and silently, I approached him, until his back was only a few feet away. Then I took a breath, and began, "Hello again."   
  
Eomer jerked a little, and turned slowly to face me. His face seemed gloomier than it had been the day I left; He didn't reply.   
  
"Eomer, I'm sorry for how I reacted that night," I started, "but you took me by suprise, and I just wanted to tell you..." I trailed off, because something had glinted in his eyes, and he nodded encouragingly.   
  
"I just wanted to say..." I stumbled, and then realized that I couldn't put my feelings into words. They could only be interpretted in actions. Grinning, I kissed him hard on the mouth.   
  
When we had finished, Eomer held me at an arms length away, a broad smile now on his face too, "Lady Eleanor, you have made me the happiest man alive, and if there is anything I could do to let you know how much I care for you, all you need do is say it."   
  
"Thank you," I replied, still grinning, "I'll remember that offer." Eomer chuckled, but then, stopping, he looked me right in the eye, "Eleanor, I would be honored above all else if you would be my wife."   
  
"And I am honored as any woman should be that you would be my husband." I answered, feeling my heart soar with elatedness.   
  
"Is that a yes?" Eomer asked, smiling. I nodded happily, looking up at the sky. Eomer sweeped into a bow, kissed my hand, and concluded, "I am forever in your debt."   
  
"And I in yours, so let's call it even."   
  
It was Eomer's turn to nod, and without another word, he headed for the citadel. I leaned against the stone wall, and looked down again at the bustling city. It felt as though everything I had ever needed found me. Friends, hope, love, contentment.   
  
.  
  
A month passed. Frodo, now lacking a digit, grew as healthy as he would ever be. Legolas began talk with Gimli of travelling back to Helm's Deep, and then to Fangorn, while Merry and Pippin kept asking if they might return home.   
  
I handed over the five palantiri to Mithrandir, whom I trust will distribute them wisely. It felt odd knowing that I had restored a part of Middle Earth's history, but I know I will never regret it.   
  
Aragorn's coronation was coming up, which is why he asked the Hobbits to remain. Rumors kept flying around the city that Aragorn's bride would be arriving any day now, and people, including myself, kept peering out into the horizon to see if they could spot the company of Elves.   
  
On the morning of the coronation, Eowyn and I were in a, I believe, our first, frenzy to look perfect. Since we shared a room, we shared our things, although my collection was pathetic compared to hers. She lent me her comb, which I was very grateful for, and I helped put up her hair the way she wanted it.   
  
I slipped on the red dress Galadriel had given me. It was the first time to wear it, and I was worried constantly that something would happen to it.   
  
Eowyn chose a dress one of the women of Minas Tirith had made her; a light yellow gown. Finally declaring ourselves presentable, we headed to the battlement.   
  
In the citadel, we met up with the Hobbits, Gimli, Legolas, Faramir and Eomer. The last two mentioned approached Eowyn and I as our escorts, and, shooting a grin at Merry and Pippin, both of whom were looking very handsome indeed in their fine clothes, I followed the others outside into the sunlight.   
  
It was a beautiful day. Perfect for a coronation, I guess. We went to our positions, and waited. Everyone, it seemed, in Minas Tirith, and perhaps from other cities, had come to this event, and were murmuring softly to each other.   
  
And then Aragorn made his appearence. I had never seen him look so noble and kingly. He smiled at all of us, and then the ceremony began. Mithrandir began talking in some tongue for awhile, and gestured to Faramir to draw nearer.   
  
The steward now held an ancient looking box covered in writing, and when he opened it, and withdrew its contents, I almost gasped.   
  
The crown was absolutely dazzling. To compare it to the one portrayed int he movie would be a sin, for the true crown sparkled and glinted in the sunlight like no other metal known. Its pearl and silver twined into intricate designs, forming wings like of a seabird's around it.   
  
Faramir handed the box to someone else, and bore the crown a few feet forward. Then Frodo met Faramir, and took the crown. I smiled inwardly as I saw him struggle with the weight momentarily, but then he recovered, and handed it gently to Mithrandir. The crown was then set in Aragorn's hands, and he held it aloft.   
  
"Et Earello Endorenna utulien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta." After singing this, he placed the crown on his head, and the crowd errupted in cheers. I blinked back tears of joy as I watched Aragorn descend the steps. He looked so fulfilled. The world was at peace again; back to the way it should be.   
  
As I continued to watch Aragorn's face, and was suprised to see it change to wonder and hope. I turned to see what he was looking at, and saw Elven banners drawing near. Legolas was with them, and grinning broadly at that.   
  
And lo and behold, out from one of the banners stepped Arwen. She, like everything else today, looked radiant, and almost unearthly. People around her gasped as they looked upon her, but she just walked slowly to Aragorn.   
  
The new king of Gondor had other ideas, however. He rushed forward, and kissed her, twirling her around in happiness.   
  
There was more applauding and cheering, and then Aragorn, leading Arwen, went over to the Hobbits. He exchanged a few words with them, and then bowed down before them. The rest of the crowd followed suit, and as I bent down, I snuck a glance at Merry and Pippin, who were looking as if they were trying not to grin.   
  
They needed this, I thought, they have been through so much, and seen so many things that would haunt other men to their deaths.   
  
When we rose back again, Aragorn and Arwen approached where Faramir, Eowyn, Eomer, and I stood. He talked softly with Eowyn for a moment, then Faramir, and then to Eomer. As he turned to me, I smiled.   
  
"Orthalion," he began, "you have helped to restore Middle Earth to the way it was. There is no praise high enough I feel I can give you."   
  
"I did not expect anything," I replied, "knowing that I helped Middle Earth at all is all I need." Aragorn nodded, glanced at Eomer, and finished, "May your life with Eomer King in Rohan be blessed."   
  
Eomer King. I had forgotten that part. Would that mean I would become a queen once we were married? I decided to Eask omer about it later; now I just wanted to enjoy the celebrating.   
  
.  
  
The celebrating lasted all morning and afternoon, but in the late afternoon, everyone began to prepare for the evening ceremony of marriage.   
  
Aragorn and Arwen, and Faramir and Eowyn had agreed to marry on the same day. Aragorn said he would be honored if Eomer and myself wished to be wed along with them, but Eomer replied that he would prefer the ceremony be in his own land, with his own people.   
  
I was tempted to ask Aragorn if he had appointed Frodo the ringbearer for the wedding, but then I learned that in Middle Earth, they don't do the whole ring business.   
  
The weddings were fantastic. I have never seen Eowyn so happy as she was at the end. Then there was a great feast, plentiful in every food, including mushrooms, to the Hobbits' delight.   
  
The partying went well into the night, but by midnight, I was tired, and ready for bed. I said my goodnights, and headed for my room.   
  
I was suprised to see Legolas leaning against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. He straightened when he saw me, and smiled, "Hello, El."   
  
"Hey," I replied, "What are you doing here by yourself? Isn't there some pretty Elf here you could party with?"   
  
Legolas's grin widened, "Nay, the Elf-maidens of Rivendell, though fair, can not compete with the lovliness of those in my father's realm. And to answer your first question, the smoke which wreathes so many of the men was bothering me, so I am avoiding it."  
  
"Ah. Well, I am off to bed. See you in the morning." As I walked away from him, a question popped out of nowhere that I had been dying to have answered by somebody for sometime.   
  
"Legolas?" I began, turning around, he looked expectantly at me, and I continued, "What does Orthalion mean?"   
  
The Elf smiled, "Strong redeemer. Aragorn was correct in naming you. Sleep well."   
  
I nodded my thanks, and continued on my way. As I climbed into bed, I found I couldn't sleep. Staring up at the ceiling, I decided to try my hand at poetry.   
  
In the back of the book Galadriel had given me were a few blank pages. Using a piece of charcoal, I began to write.   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
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Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Yey for Radagast. I always thought he was nifty, and needed more recognition.  
  
chibi-mairi: I based the lake monster-thing off the Watcher of the Water in the movie, but I wasn't sure if he had a real name or anything. Perhaps Giganta tentaclus... You like my explanation? Oh yey.   
  
AAAclub: Yep, I hate cliffhangers too, which is why I didn't draw out the interval between these two chapters. I hope I updated soon enough for you. :-) 


	26. The Voluntary Breaking of the Fellowship

Chapter Twenty-Six  
  
One week passed. The Hobbits began their packing to return to the Shire, and I knew the Fellowship would soon be no more.   
  
It tore my heart to think of it. I would probably never see Merry or Pippin again. The morning of their departure, Eomer, Aragorn, and I went to the four to talk.   
  
"Master Peregrin," Aragorn began. Pippin looked up from adjusting his scarf, and Aragorn continued, "Remember that you gave your services to Gondor and that you are merely on a long leave."   
  
Pippin smiled, "Thank you." Next it was Eomer's turn, "And Master Merry, the same applies to you, for you swore fealty to Rohan's king unto your death or your king release you."   
  
Merry nodded solomnly. Or, as solomnly as one can while biting into an apple. I grinned, trying not to cry.   
  
Sensing my predicament, I assume, Eomer and Aragorn left. I knelt down by the two, "Well, I guess this is it."   
  
Neither one spoke. Merry mumbled something, and shuffled away.   
  
"Thank you again, Pippin, for becoming my friend." I said, fighting back tears.   
  
"I hope you are happy in Rohan." Pippin wished. I stood up, "And you, Master Took, in the Shire. May you marry a wonderful Hobbit maiden, and live long."   
  
Pippin reddened, nodding, "I shall try."   
  
"When will you four be leaving?" I asked.   
  
"This afternoon."   
  
After promising him I would see him off, I left. Eomer and Aragorn were talking outside, and Eomer turned to me, "Are you ready to soon leave for Rohan?"   
  
"I suppose." I sighed. Legolas and Gimli were to leave the next day for Helm's Deep. By the evening, the Fellowship would be at an end. I was depressed.   
  
"You shall always be welcome in Minas Tirith." Aragorn said, smiling, "In fact, if you do not return for a visit periodically, I might have to send soldiers to escort you here."   
  
We laughed, and I excusing myself, went off to wander.   
  
.  
  
I found myself in a small courtyard, enclosed on all sides, but the blue sky above me. I sat down on a small bench, and looked around.   
  
The grass was neatly cut, and the fountain in the center looked clean, but I had the feeling no one ever walked in this courtyard anymore. The idea made me sad, so I began circling the perimeter, gazing at the features.   
  
There was a fountain, as I mentioned, and two statues. One was of a tall man clad in stone armor, and his face was proudly and beautifully carved. The other statue was an older man, with handsome clothes chiseled on his form. The way his face had been carved was incredible. When I looked up at his eyes, I could almost see the grief and pain he must have endured when he lived.  
  
I wondered who this master scultper was. His work was amazing. Sitting down on the bench, I continued to gaze up at the figures.   
  
I must have been there longer than I thought, because after awhile, Aragorn found me, and informed me that the Hobbits were ready to leave.   
  
Giving a cry, I thanked him, and hurried to the battlements, Aragorn close behind. Merry sat atop his pony, Stybba, and the other three were on small horses Eomer had given them.   
  
Legolas, Gimli, Eomer, Eowyn, Faramir, and Mithrandir were already present, and were saying their own farewells to the Hobbits.   
  
All of them were showering Frodo and Sam with praise, but I went directly to Merry and Pippin, who were watching their friends a bit enviously.   
  
"Hey." I began, approaching them. They turned in their saddles to look at me.   
  
"This is the end." Merry said, staring at the sky.   
  
"Or the beginning." Pippin chirped.   
  
"Or even the middle." I contributed, "For who are we to know where our story will be put?"  
  
"I hope at the beginning," Pippin started, "because everyone reads the beginning."   
  
I laughed, and looked away, and then back at them. "May your path take you safetly back home."   
  
"Home." Merry sighed.   
  
.  
  
That evening, I sat alone on the bench in the little courtyard. I had cried myself into a stupor, and now was looking again at the statue of the old man.   
  
Oh, how I missed them. Why hadn't I given them one of the palantiri? I had plenty. But I knew what would probably happen if I had.   
  
I could keep in communication with them, but sooner or later, we would drift, or something would happen, and we wouldn't talk anymore. And then if one of them ever did return, it wouldn't be as wonderful as it would have if we hadn't seen or spoke with each other in the time elapsed.   
  
My brain hurt and my heart was sore. Would I ever see them again? The answer stung my soul, but there were no tears left.   
  
"Eleanor," came a soft voice behind me. Eomer joined my side, and looked at me, "I'm sorry for your loss. Should the need arrive, however, I can bring Master Brandybuck back."  
  
"No," I began, "he needs to start his life back in the Shire; I forbid you to order him back."   
  
Eomer appeared startled for a moment at my words, but then nodded, "You are right." After a pause, he continued, "And what of our lives?"   
  
"We will go back to Edoras with the Rohirrim."   
  
"And after that?"   
  
"After that," I replied, smiling at him, "we will live happily ever after."   
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
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Cindy17: Don't worry, there was this chapter, and then I have an epilogue-thing coming next, and then it'll be done.  
  
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Yep, finally do. Thanks, it took me a long time to find the right name; I just wish it wasn't four syllables. But all names in Middle Earth seem to be long.   
  
AAAclub: Not enough emotion? Hmm, I just didn't want to lay it on too thick. I dunno... 


	27. Epilogue, and the End of Some Things

Epilogue  
  
A year later, after Eomer and I were married, we were summoned back to Minas Tirith. The reunion was a joyous one, and Arwen was glowing with a light only an expectant mother knows.   
  
After we had eaten dinner with the Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, and Eowyn, Aragron asked me to follow him.   
  
The others, smiling, trailed behind as I wondered where Aragron was leading me. Through the familiar halls we walked, until finally we wound up in the courtyard I had spent one day in. Smiling, I looked at the two statues, but then noticed another one. Shooting Aragorn a curious look, I approached the new addition, and gasped.   
  
It was me. Standing on a pedestal stood a carved rock with such a stunning portrayal of me it was slightly creepy. The skill of the sculptur, however, rivaled that of the other two. On the pedestal was etched four trees, and between the first two trees was the symbol of a horse; Rohan. On the far right side was a symbol of seven circles in a semi-circle pattern, and the other half of the circle was the symbol of Gondor.   
  
In the very middle was writing in Elven. Although I couldn't read fluently, I recognized the poem instantly. It was the one I wrote the day of Aragorn's coronation. Kneeling, I read, stumbling over the letters:  
  
.  
  
"The way the world was long ago,  
  
Will be a world I'll never know.  
  
And the world that still is yet to be,  
  
Will be a world I'll never see.   
  
The truth may cause one's heart to grieve  
  
But that is not mine, for I believe  
  
That treachery, lies, cruelty, and hate  
  
Increase the nakedness of the truth's weight.  
  
Friendship above all else rises  
  
and for life brings many suprises.  
  
Emnity, however, heightens distrust,  
  
and alters the mind and soul to dust.  
  
And in the end, when all else fails,  
  
For you, my friend, will I prevail  
  
Together we'll seek the Heavenly Sky.   
  
And forever we'll live, just you and I."  
  
.  
  
I stood up, and gazed at the stone me. It was holding a palantir its right hand, and wearing a dress I know I have never owned, under a cloak I have never seen. Nevertheless, it was amazing, and I turned to look at Aragorn and the others.   
  
"I am blessed beyond words." I said, smiling.   
  
"Here it stands," Eomer began grandly, "a tribute to you and all young women who want to challenge all traditions.   
  
.  
  
And here I am. Eleanor Queen, Orthalion, or merely El. Not in a lifetime would I have predicted that this would be my future, and not in a lifetime or two would I exchange it for anything.   
  
So now, with regret, and a little relief, my tale is at its end.   
  
Or is it the beginning? Or perhaps even the middle?  
  
The End  
  
.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
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AAAClub: That makes me want to finish or begin another fan fiction. Yey.  
  
chibi-mairi: I hope this end satisfied you. :-)  
  
Yey. I'm glad all you wonderful readers reviewed me and spurred me on to make this fanfiction the best I could. Now, before I make this sound like an acceptance speech or something, I'll thank you all, and leave it at that.  
  
-Cynthia 


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